The Bunny Ranch
by LailaB
Summary: Her outward beauty entices him, her innocent optimism intrigues him, her loving heart ensnares him. A lighthearted, fluffy tale about how a twenty-something's sanguine leash on life brings joy and happiness to even the gruffest member of the Playboy Club. Can their budding romance survive the age gap? Or will it come crashing down around them? A/H
1. Chapter 1

Hello, Lovlies! I have missed you all terribly.

I'm thinking about writing another story. I've had two or three plot bunnies flying around my head but this just sort of wouldn't leave me alone. I think we could have a lot of fun with it. Let me know what you think.

If you don't already, please follow me on Twitter for updates and fun chats: lailabentz

As usual, I do not own anything.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

I take one final look at myself in the gilded mirror above the sink in the lavish bathroom on the seventh floor. Playboy headquarters is nothing and everything that I thought it would be, from the sleek leather seating in the waiting area to the gussied up administrative assistant manning the reception desk. I make a mental note to thank Angela for talking me out of the simple black pantsuit I had planned to wear, and into her fitted black pencil skirt and silk wrap top. While I don't have Angela's height, I do have natural curves that are nicely accentuated by the outfit. Paired with my favorite black heels and a touch more makeup than I usually wear, I almost look like I could belong here.

Almost.

I take a deep breath and muster up all the courage I can manage and make my way over to the receptionist.

"Hello, I'm Isabella Swan. I have an appointment with Susan Andezola at eleven?"

"Isabella, please have a seat. Ms. Andezola will be with you in a moment. Would you like a bottled water while you wait?" The receptionist is welcoming and kind, immediately putting my frazzled nerves at ease.

"No, thank you. I'm fine." I smile in thanks and then make my way over to the black leather chairs in the seating area. I manage to play a round of scrabble on my phone by the time Ms. Andezola's door opens and I'm momentarily distracted by the beautiful, statuesque blonde that leaves her office. Unfortunately, my confidence goes from minimal to nonexistent by the time she calls me into her office.

Ms. Andezola's office isn't large, but it's tastefully decorated in warm neutral colors. She's direct but easygoing and before I know it forty-five minutes have passed. By the end of the interview not only do I want the job, but I also find that I think I might actually enjoy it.

Needless to say, I'm ecstatic when three days later I receive a phone call and a job offer as a "Bunny" at the very exclusive and very _secretive_ Playboy Club here in Chicago. I'll be working Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday nights along with two rotating Sundays per month in the attached Playboy Sports Bar. That is, of course, if I can make it through "Bunny Boot Camp" which is an intense eight week training program that ranges from physical fitness training, nutrition and lessons in style and makeup to etiquette training, conversational skills and general knowledge of current events. This, however, is all secondary to the daily courses of how to wait tables "The Bunny Way", which includes how to lean over to set drinks down, how exactly to stand when taking an order and memorization of the script, because God forbid we simply ask what one would like to drink. As ridiculous and demeaning as this whole situation seems, I simply cannot pass up the opportunity to earn four thousand dollars per month, not including tips, which is where the real money lies. God bless my parent's souls and may they forever rest in peace, but curse the bad investments and overwhelming debt they left behind. If I can just make it through camp, I figure I can get these debt collectors off my back, permanently, within the next few years. Who knows, I might even have a little fun.

My father, Charles, was a corporate lawyer and my mother, Renee, was a socialite. I had a pretty good relationship with them and I can't complain one bit about my childhood but I would honestly give every pony and princess party back if I could exchange it for all of this debt. It's just too much pressure for a twenty-one year old. I can barely keep myself fed between all of the payment arrangements I have. But this is my life now and I have no choice but to accept it. Long gone is the fully staffed mansion and luxury cars and designer labels. I'm lucky to be able to afford my monthly bus pass these days.

Thankfully, car service is one of the perks of working in the Playboy Club, and I stare completely in awe at the grandeur of the sprawling three-story red brick building, known as The Bunny Ranch, as the driver pulls past the wrought iron gate, down the long, tree-lined driveway and around the circular carport to let me off at the front entrance.

Grabbing my old gym bag and coat, I make my way inside praying that the yoga pants and fitted hoodie I'm wearing today are acceptable. I was told to wear comfortable athletic wear since we will be spending most of the morning being measured for our Bunny wardrobe and then we will be moving on to the required paperwork before finally finishing out the say with baseline fitness tests in order to put together an individualized fitness programs for each of us new girls.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I get inside the lobby and notice that the other girls are dressed similar to me and am put even more at ease when we meet Irina, our Bunny Mistress. She will guide us through our training and virtually be with us every step of the way throughout our careers as Bunnies. Irina is an older woman with a severe platinum blond bob, ice blue eyes and a wicked sense of humor. Her beautifully tailored black suit and pearls reek of class. Of course, I'd expect nothing less.

"Enjoy your last day of looking homeless, ladies, because from here on out, you belong to Playboy. You will sleep, eat and _breathe_ Playboy. You will represent Playboy in every thought and every action. It's rigid and it's hard, but it's worth it. You are the lucky few. You are the chosen. You are the Bunnies! Everyone thinks the rich powerful men who patronize our club are the ones who hold all the power. Well, they're wrong. It's us. It's _you_. Now grab your things and let's get acquainted with your new surroundings, shall we? " I can't help but get excited at the gleam in her eye, and hurry to catch up with the rest of the girls.

After check-in, where we receive a name tag (to be worn at all times) and our Bunny Bible, the first stop of the morning is the Bunny Beauty Room.

We are led down a long corridor with double doors at the end. Irina enters a code before pushing through the double doors and we are led into a small open lobby area that has a stairwell, a glass door with a keypad that leads to another set of heavy wooden doors that appear to lead outside and on the opposite wall, a beautiful, intricately carved wooden door with a complicated keypad and a gold knob. I notice that Irina not only uses a fingerprint, but also a code to gain entrance.

She points toward the doors that I assume lead outside, "That is the Bunny entrance. Dimitri is stationed there Thursday through Saturday from two o'clock in the afternoon until the last Bunny leaves at night and on Sundays from eight in the morning, again until the last Bunny leaves. Alec covers Monday through Wednesday. We take the safety and well-being of our Bunnies very seriously here at The Bunny Ranch."

She steps into the room with her back against the door and with a bright knowing smile, she fans her arm out with a flourish, "Welcome, to The Bunny Beauty Room, ladies, your own personal heaven."

Tentatively, we all file through the door and try to, but fail miserably, to hold in the gasps of excitement at the splendor in front of us.

The Beauty Room is separated into four areas: The bathroom/shower area, the vanity area, the spa and the lounge.

"This is the lounge area and the attached kitchenette", she says as she leads us through a gorgeous sitting room. There is plush cream carpet with beautiful white and cream damask wallpaper, gold and white couches and chairs artfully arranged throughout the space. There's a breathtaking crystal chandelier hanging over the main seating area and lamps strategically placed throughout the space give it a soft, beautiful glow. On the walls, encased in ornate golden frames are black and white photographs of past and present centerfolds along with crystal vases filled with white roses. It's simply breathtaking.

Next she leads us through a white paneled door into the bathroom area. It has ten separate shower stalls with glass doors, ten separate, completely closed off toilet rooms and a row of twelve sinks with beautiful gold framed mirrors hanging above each one and crystal sconces hanging between. The bathroom is primarily soft creams and whites with heated marble floors and gold accents. There's crystal vases with bright pink flowers scattered throughout the room and soft music playing through the overhead speakers.

From the bathroom, you can either head left into the vanity room or right into the small spa area. Irina takes us quickly through the spa area which is decorated exactly like the bathroom pointing out the three salon chairs, the small waxing room and a manicure/pedicure station. She mentions that all appointments are made through her and then whisks us off through a marble archway into the vanity area.

If I thought the lounge area was gorgeous, it has nothing on the vanity area. Old Hollywood glamour is all that comes to mind as I take in the largest of the rooms. The same plush cream carpet, wallpaper and beautiful black and white centerfold pictures from the lounge are mimicked in this room. Just like in the lounge there is a huge crystal chandelier with two long white tufted leather benches running through the center of the room.

The overwhelming part, however, is the thirty separate dressing areas lining the four walls with a full length gold framed mirror in between each set of five dressing areas, complete with antique gold vanities with lighted mirrors and armoires. What brings tears to my eyes are the crystal vases filled with deep red roses along with beautiful gold and rhinestone name plates above each of the twelve empty stations.

 _Bunny Isabella_.

I find my dressing area quickly and sit down in the plush, tufted, white leather chair, when Irina directs us to get acquainted with our area.

"Mistress Irina, were we supposed to bring makeup? It wasn't on my list…" The beautiful redhead called Maggie asks as she looks around her station worriedly.

"Of course not, Maggie. Everything you'll use, from shampoo to perfume, will be provided. Monsieur Jacob and his very capable team of stylists will meet up with us shortly, but first, we need to have each of you set your lock codes. We'll start with your vanity areas and then move to the access and entry doors. From there, we will head up to the seamstress and supply room. How does that sound?"

The next hour is spent programming codes and fingerprints into every point of access that we have clearance for and then we head up to the third floor for wardrobe and supplies. If I thought that the Beauty Room tour was overwhelming, it has nothing on the third floor.

The third floor is a large open space that has three temporary stations set up. There's an area with three chairs set up for what looks like hair styling, an area with three chairs for makeup consultations, an area with several racks of clothes for wardrobe fittings and then an area separated by a curtain for our costume fitting.

"Isabella, Maggie, Alice; you'll start at hair. Rosalie, Tanya, Jessica; you'll start at makeup. Lauren, Charlotte, Maria; you'll start in wardrobe. Leah and Emily; you'll head right through that door for waxing. And Claire, you'll come with me to see our seamstress, Mrs. Cope."

There's a moment where we all scramble to find our groups before we happily head off to our assigned stations. I'm pleasantly surprised by how sweet all of the girls are. I was expecting some cattiness but haven't seen anything of the sort thus far.

I'm paired with Enrique for my hair overhaul, which turns out to not be much of an overhaul at all. He's convinced that my waist length hair is extensions and then gives a dramatic "Girl, you have a stylist's wet dream on your head, honey." when he realizes that my hair is real. He doesn't change much, just trims the ends, adds some long layers and adds some deep, dark lowlights to my chocolate brown hair which adds some much needed depth and richness. He then gives me a blowout, resulting in some nice loose, glossy curls. He notes all of the products he uses on both my chart and in his book, making sure I know how to use all of the products to achieve the same look on my own and then sends me on my way with a high five and a shimmy. I feel much more confident when he lets me know that he is now my assigned hairstylist and that he will be down in the Bunny Room for the next eight weeks helping us where we need it until we get the hang of recreating our looks.

My next stop is makeup and here I'm paired with Diane. She's probably in her late thirties and has a casual easy demeanor.

"Isabella, your eyes are to die for. Very Mila Kunis, only much darker. Sexy. Exotic. Let's work with that shall we?" I can only nod at the compliment. I mean, I know I'm no hag, but to be called sexy and exotic by one of Playboy's very own makeup artists?

 _Wow._

"Sure. Whatever you think. I trust you." With a wink she goes into business mode asking me about my skin type and skin care routine any problems I have and what kind of makeup I'm currently using.

"You're killing me Isabella." Is all she says when I tell her that my current skincare routine consists of Dove soap and whatever lotion is on sale. I blush hotly at her comment and her eyes soften when she adds with a wink, "We'll get you taken care of, sweetie. You'll get two sets of everything. One for home and one for here. We've gotta keep that skin and hair in tip top shape, you know."

I give my full attention as she goes over a daytime and nighttime skin care regimen as well as a once a week exfoliation and mask. I never knew that one person could put so many things on their face and then I'm reminded of how many jars used to sit on the counter in my mother's bathroom. To keep me young and beautiful she'd said when I'd asked her what they were for as a child. She'd merely laughed when I asked when I would get my own magic beauty jars. Well, now I have my very own set and I find it oddly satisfying. Next we go through foundation matching. Diane chooses Diorskin Airflash because she says that I don't need much coverage, just a little evening out. I'm not entirely convinced considering that it comes in a spray can but she shows me how to spray it onto a brush and I have to admit that the result is soft and natural.

I furiously take notes in my Bunny Bible as she goes through the whole makeup ordeal; Contour, blush, concealer, highlight, eyeshadows, eyebrows, mascara and falsies, lipsticks, lipgloss and last but not least setting spray. There are so many brushes and products that I start to panic. "Hush little one. There are diagrams in your book and I'll be there everyday until you're comfortable. You did a fantastic job today. Remember, when in doubt," I chime in with a smile, "Blend it out!"

"Yes! My sweet Isabella is a genius." We both laugh and I have to admit that the girl looking back at me in the mirror is stunning. Maybe even sexy and exotic. With a knowing smile she shoos me off to wardrobe.

My spirits are lifted even higher when I receive compliments on my hair and makeup from several of the other girls.

"I'll never understand how they can make this much makeup look natural", Jessica says while examining her makeup in the mirror. "I only hope I can eventually come close to replicating it."

"You and me both, Jessica. " My reply is meant to encourage but it's intention is lost completely when we both fall into a fit of giggles.

Wardrobe with Jacob is entertaining to say the least. I honestly don't think that I've ever met a more flamboyantly gay man in my entire life. We chat about life and love or our lack thereof while he sizes me for five sets of logo activewear (Jacket, legging, shorts, sports bra) since we are required by our contract to workout in the facility provided on the second floor five days a week, a bikini, three dresses in three different styles, a coat, a pair of Nike trainers for workouts, a pair of black and a pair of nude designer heels, My Sunday uniform which consists of a pair of white Nike trainers, the smallest pair of white cheeky shorts I've ever seen, a cropped jersey and knee high socks, and my essentials which consist of ten seamless nude thong style panties and three extreme push up bras and twenty pair of sheer, black silk pantyhose. It's kind of weird trying on sample sizes of everything but Jacob assures me that everything is custom made and our activewear and bikinis would be made in our Bunny color, which, of course, we won't know until Mrs. Cope and Irina decide.

Once I'm finished in wardrobe I take a seat in one of the many chairs that are strewn about the large room and wait until it's my turn in costume fittings. I get the opportunity to get to know some of the other girls and find that I have a particularly strong connection with Alice, a sweet southern girl from Mississippi and Rosalie a blond bombshell from Rochester, New York.

"Isabella, we're ready for you." Irina pokes her head out from behind the curtain and butterflies seem to take flight in my stomach as I make my way over to the curtained off area.

"Okay, honey, strip." I'm taken aback by Mrs. Cope's direct demeanor at first but looking down into her warm brown eyes I'm immediately put back at ease. I quickly disrobe leaving myself just in the seamless thong and strapless push up bra that was requested. Mrs. Cope lets out a long whistle, "Well look at the figure on you!" Her comment causes me to blush furiously and Mistress Irina to chuckle before gently admonishing her, "Don't embarrass the girl, Shelly." Mrs. Cope merely rolls her eyes and replies, "She's got tits, ass and possibly the tiniest waist we've ever seen come through here. Not to mention she's got legs and a beautiful face to go along with it. What on earth would she have to be embarrassed about?"

Irina just winks at me before focusing on the three shades of blue satin that Mrs. Cope has pulled off the garment rack and placed up against my face. She quickly discards the lightest one with a sour face, then drapes the other two across each shoulder and turning me to face the full length mirror while both women step behind me.

"That is too close to Annabell's color", Irina says discarding the royal blue color, "But this one, wow, this is stunning against her peaches and cream complexion."

"Oh, yes. This is the one." Mrs. Cope agrees with a wide smile and a knowing look in the mirror to Irina. I have to admit that the color is gorgeous. It's deep and rich. A true midnight blue. It's perfect.

A breathless "Wow." is really all I can manage.

"Wow, indeed", Mrs. Cope agrees.

For the next half hour I'm tucked and pinned into a sample working pattern made of white stretch satin. The bust line is discussed and adjusted and the height of the leg openings are adjusted as well. I'm thankful to have long limbs despite my short stature, so the front of the classic bunny costume looks amazing, but when we get to the back of the costume, it turns into a debate about how much cheek they should attempt to cover. In the end they decide to expand the butt by a quarter inch on each side giving me an extra half inch of coverage to accommodate my much larger than average derriere. It doesn't seem like nearly enough coverage but I don't complain because I'll take what I can get. A half inch is better than nothing. A set of white satin bunny ears, the standard rosette name tag pinned to my right hip and a pair of white satin classic Christian Louboutin heels complete the costume. I'm assured that the ears, name tag and shoes will be dyed to match my costume when I look at the white shoes with disdain and I immediately feel bad. Irina is quick to assure me that all the girls have the same reaction then she asks how I feel in the bodice.

"I can't breathe."

"Oh don't be a baby", Mrs. Cope chides with a chuckle and a dismissive wave of her hand, "We didn't have stretch in our satin back in my day. You girls have it easy! Now turn around."

"What I wouldn't give to have your body. Damn, not a lick of cellulite on that booty." The old lady gives my butt a healthy smack then orders me to get dressed and head to waxing.

By the end of the first day I'm so overwhelmed in the best possible way that I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

For a job that I was so reluctant to take, I can't wait to be back tomorrow. Maybe this is exactly the fresh start that I deserve.

* * *

What do y'all think? Should I keep going? Should I post pics and visuals? Let me know. I value your thoughts.

Smooches, Laila


	2. Chapter 2

Hello lovelies! Thank you so so much for the warm welcome back. Based on the feedback I received, I think we're gonna go ahead and try another chapter and see where this little story goes. It ought to be a lot of fun. I mean, who doesn't like a sweet little Bella and a grumpy older Edward?

 **Side note: Once we get this story off the ground (three chapters or so), I'm hoping to settle into a once per week updating schedule. If you'd prefer that I actually wait the full week before posting chapter three just let me know. I'd hate to spoil you too much the first week, only to slow down posting and disappoint you. I'm flexible.**

I think it goes without saying that I've taken quite a bit of creative license with the way Bella inherited her late father's debt as well as any inner workings of Playboy, but it's a bit of fun nonetheless.

Lets be friends on Twitter lailabentz

As per usual, I don't own any of this.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

I start my day an hour earlier today, stopping by the front office of my apartment building and putting the two thousand dollar sign on bonus to good use. I'm able to completely catch up on my rent and even have a little extra cash to put away for emergencies. It's such a good feeling to start the day with one less worry.

The air is cold and crisp as Jeffrey, the driver, helps me from the back of the town car and I smile inwardly as I enter my new access code into the keypad. I quickly make my way to the Bunny Room and am pleasantly surprised to find six large boxes stacked in front of my armoire.

"What's all this?" I ask no one in particular gesturing toward the boxes as I remove my coat and gloves.

"All our stuff! Well, most of it. God, can you believe it? I could never afford this kind of luxury. It's unreal", Alice says as she slumps dramatically into her vanity chair, her slight southern accent wrapping around each word.

"I know", Maggie pipes in with a wistful sigh, "A girl could certainly get used to this." I nod my head in agreement, recalling all of the designer cosmetics and clothes we sampled yesterday. A girl most definitely could get used to this. I only hope I can get used to the less glamorous parts of the job as well. I mean, it could be worse right? I could still be working three jobs for less than half of what I'll be making now. A barely there costume and a fluffy tail are a small price to pay if we're being completely honest.

Glass half full and all that.

Without further ado, I dig right into my boxes. Inside I find my activewear and basics as well as all of my cosmetics, personal care items, and styling tools. Two sets. Just like Enrique and Diane promised. I pull out one set and start arranging everything in and on top of my vanity, taking my time to appreciate the beautiful, luxurious packaging of all of the high end brands. I've personally never owned anything like this so I refuse to squander the opportunity to savor it.

In the last box, we all find five velour tracksuits in our "Bunny Color" with large rhinestone encrusted Playboy bunny logos on the back and our name embroidered on the left chest. There are also five sports bras with a rhinestone Playboy bunny in the center chest as well as five pair of matching spandex booty shorts with the same encrusted bunny on the hip. We all snicker when Tanya makes a remark about how we're gonna be channeling J-Lo circa 2004. I mean, they're beautiful, classy tracksuits, just perhaps a little outdated. No one really knows what to do with them so we decide to tuck everything away into our armoires and wait for further instruction.

Once I'm satisfied that everything is neatly organized and in its proper place, I pull out my Bunny Bible. We have about twenty minutes until we are scheduled to meet in the lounge so I take the few free minutes to review the notes I took last night, before bed, on chapter one. Irina said that's where we are starting this morning so I thought it would be prudent to get familiar with the topics that will be covered.

At five minutes to nine, we all make our way to the lounge and find a seat, the opulence of the room still taking my breath away. Irina comes in at nine o'clock on the dot and hands us each a schedule.

"Good morning, ladies." Her voice is no nonsense this morning. "Here is your schedule for the rest of the week. If I were you, I'd stash it away somewhere safe and accessible. We have a lot to cover today, so let's head back to the vanity room and get started."

She is pleasantly surprised to find that we've all gone ahead and put everything away, so she jumps right into walking us through getting ready for the day. As promised, the three hair stylists and makeup artists are walking around the room in case any of us get stuck, but we are urged to use our Bunny Bible more than anything. Once we are all finished with hair and makeup, she segues right into our required attire for the rest of Bunny Boot Camp. We are required to wear the spandex shorts and sports bra that were provided layered underneath the velour tracksuit. We are to be in full hair and makeup at all times and have our four inch practice pumps and name tag easily accessible for our waitressing classes.

"We all know that the tracksuits are outdated, ladies, but Hef loves them so we humor him. In other words, put them on and keep your comments to yourself." She looks at us over the rim of her glasses and it looks like she means business. Still, she manages to crack a smile at the few escaped giggles we can't seem to manage.

Obediently, we all change into our tracksuits and I have to grudgingly admit that they _do_ look classy. The emerald green of Maggie's is to die for against her auburn hair and the pale yellow is a striking contrast against Alice's inky black hair. Neither can compare to the deep blue of mine, however. The rhinestones glitter beautifully against the rich color and it doesn't look half bad against my pale skin and dark hair if I do say so myself. I guess our stylists know what they're doing after all.

Next on the agenda is a history lesson. We cover the Playboy brand, touch briefly on the magazine, extensively cover the early Playboy clubs and spend the majority of the time learning about the introduction of the "Bunnies" and what they represent. I'm both inspired and intimidated by the end of the lesson. Could I really be a walking fantasy, just like the women before me? I do have doubts, but I have to believe it's possible. The hiring staff chose me, out of hundreds of applicants. That has to count for something, right? They obviously saw something in me that I don't and I'm just going to have to trust their judgement. They're the experts after all. So with a newfound determination, I finish off my lunch and tackle the second half of my day vowing to myself to be as successful as I possibly can. I want to make the people who gave me this opportunity, proud. I want to make _myself_ proud.

The next three weeks fly by in a flurry of activity and before we know it, we are halfway through boot camp. At this point, we've mastered the Bunny Stance, the Bunny Dip and the Bunny Perch. We can identify one hundred and forty six brands of liquor and we all know how to garnish fifty two cocktail variations. Our bodies are more toned, our makeup skills more honed and it feels like we've put a thousand miles on our practice pumps. I never dreamed the amount of hard work and dedication I'd have to put in to become a Bunny.

After lunch on the Monday of week five, we are brought up to the same open space on the third floor that we were brought on our first day. Today, however, it's set up as a makeshift bar. There are several high top tables arranged into six sections as well as a hostess booth at the front and the Bunny Rail set up along the back wall. The Bunny Rail is where we are to "perch" during down times. The room looks very informal and I know we will be using plastic cups instead of glasses but those details don't minimize the significance of the day.

Today we get to strip down to our spandex and sports bras, don our practice heels and serve actual people. Granted they are spouses and support staff, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. I'll take living, breathing people over imaginary people any day. Do you know how hard it is to converse with air? Trust me, it's impossible. The fact that we get to interact with actual people does little to quell my nerves, however, and suddenly the lemon chicken I had for lunch desperately wants to make a reappearance.

"You can do this, Bella. Take a deep breath." Jessica's encouragement helps me to get myself together and not with a second to spare.

"Places, Bunnies!" Irina shouts with two sharp claps of her hands.

We all scramble to find our place to perch on the rail while our fake bouncer opens the door and our fake hostess starts seating people in our areas. I'll be sharing a section with Emily today, for which I'm thankful. She's a sweet Native American girl from Oklahoma with deep russet skin and silky straight black hair. Needless to say she's absolutely stunning in her bright coral Bunny Color. She has a laidback demeanor but she's quick with the wit so working with her today should be a load of fun. She gives me a subtle fist bump as we head off to greet our first customers. She heads toward the table with two middle aged men and I veer off to the table with an older gentleman and a younger lady.

"Good afternoon, I am your Bunny Isabella. May I see your Playboy key, please?" I make sure to smile warmly while holding a perfect Bunny Stance as the gentleman pulls the sleek black membership card from his wallet. When I swipe his card and receive a green light, I quickly take note of his favorite liquors that pop up on the screen of the card reader before I continue with the script, "Thank you, Mr. Richardson, what will you be drinking this afternoon?" He smiles back at me before answering, "I'll have a bourbon. Top shelf." I try not to fidget at his not so subtle perusal of my body as I reply, "Will _Hudson_ _Baby_ be acceptable, Mr. Richardson?" He nods once and I pivot toward his companion to give her my full attention, "And for the lady?" She looks me up and down before answering dismissively, "Sauvignon Blanc." I plaster a smile on my face and with as much confidence as I can muster, I reply, "Of course, madam." I try to steel my composure as I turn to leave the table. I honestly have no idea why I'm so unnerved. I knew it would most likely be that way, I guess experiencing the blatant leering in person for the first time is jarring. It can o lyrics get better from here. Now I know what to expect,and by the time I reach my next table, my smile is actually genuine.

By the end of our two hour shift, I've messed up three drink orders, cried twice and my feet feel like they're on fire. But, we've made it through our first live trial run and I can't help the huge smile that spreads across my face as I collapse onto one of the plush couches in our lounge. The fact that I've made three hundred dollars in tips doesn't hurt either.

Three hundred dollars in two hours. Goodness.

Lauren plops down next to me and blows her blonde sideswept bangs out of her eyes as she let's her head drop back. "Wow, that was intense." I don't have the energy to form an actual response so I merely hum in acknowledgement. She groans before she adds, "That was only two hours. Can you imagine eight full hours of that? I'm gonna die. My poor feet are gonna die."

"But just imagine the tips. That alone makes it worth the torture on our feet." I continue rubbing the sole of my tired foot as I continue my thought, "Maybe I'll use some of today's tips and stop by Walgreens on my way home. I'm sure they've gotta have some kind of cushioned inserts or something. I bet that'll help."

"You're a damn genius, Swan. Hey, Jess, wanna swing by Walgreens after work with Bella and me? We're about to stock up on cushioned insoles."

"Yes!"

"Me too." Alice, throws in.

"Me three." Maggie says at the same time causing us all to laugh.

Before long we've got a plan for all twelve of us to go Walgreens shopping after work. Hopefully we find something that works.

Four weeks, twenty two hour trial shifts and twelve different styles of gel inserts later, I not only find my holy grail foot relief, but I also find my confidence, inner glamazon, and nerves of steel.

We've made it to the last Friday of Bunny Boot Camp, and we are currently having our final costume fitting. This time when we remove our costumes, they will be immediately checked into the Bunny Closet, which is a tiny room off the Vanity Room, where they will be kept under lock and key. We are to check them out with the Bunny Mother at the beginning of each shift and then check them back in with her at the close of each shift. She responsible for the care, cleaning, upkeep and safety of each of the costumes.

Nothing, not even the fact that we have to turn in our costumes at the end of each day, can quell the buzz of excitement surrounding us as we each shimmy into the skintight bodysuits and affix all of the accessories, down to the black fishnet stockings, for the very first time. The moment I slip on the perfectly dyed to match shoes, I feel validated. The last eight weeks have truly been a journey toward earning the honor to wear these beautifully crafted, exquisitely detailed costumes.

We are officially Bunnies.

These last eight weeks have been torture and enlightenment. Frustration and perseverance. But they've been worth it. I'm stronger than I've ever been both mentally and physically and I've gained eleven new sisters who are the best friends I could've ever dreamed of having. I've also managed to update my winter wardrobe as well as make a small dent in one of my father's debts with my new income and tips, and that's not even with a full schedule. I honestly feel like I could take on the world right now.

We are moved into our lounge and artfully posed on and around the large couch and a couple of chairs so that Jerry Rhodes, Playboy's most famous photographer, can capture the latest class of Playboy Bunnies on film. Once the image is captured and each piece of our costumes are inventoried and locked away, Irina gathers us all together for one last tradition.

With beautiful words of encouragement and praise, each of us twelve girls is gifted a dainty necklace with a small Playboy bunny head made of platinum and encrusted with tiny diamonds. The bunny's eye on each of the pendants are a brilliant jewel in our own Bunny Color. Tears gather in my eyes as I gaze at the beautiful, glittering bunny with the sapphire eye. When I flip the Bunny over emotion washes over me as I see my monogram engraved into the back of the precious metal. Irina kisses each of our cheeks as she affixes the chain around each of our necks, and as the cool shimmering bunny settles into the hollow at the base of my throat, it feels like my new world settles around me.

I'm _so_ ready to experience everything this new world has to offer.

* * *

 **Who owned a velour tracksuit in the 2000's and what color was it? Don't lie! hahaha**

 **It appears that Bella is pretty excited about her new job, doesn't it. Man, I would be too if they provided me with designer skin care and cosmetics. Sign me up!**

 **Next up, we get to meet our favorite grump. Can't wait to see how that goes.**

 **Smooches, Laila**


	3. Chapter 3

It's time to meet Edward.

If you would like to see pics and visuals, check out The Bunny Ranch Pintrest board (Laila Bentz) or find me on Twitter lailabentz or Facebook.

These chapters are unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. If anyone is interested in betaing PM me.

I think this story needs a banner, don't you? hint hint

I own nothing, except a red velour tracksuit.

* * *

 **~Edward~**

"Esme tells me the club is debuting new Bunnies tonight."

Carlisle, my younger brother and dearest friend tries, and fails miserably, to sound nonchalant about the blatant attempt to get me to accompany him to the notorious Playboy Club. I'm no prude, and to be honest, I've made good use of my exclusive lifetime membership throughout my adult life, but It's just not my scene anymore. At thirty-eight years old, I can honestly say that I've outgrown the place. Flexing my elite social status amidst a room filled with scantily clad women just doesn't hold the same appeal that it did in my twenties, nor does having my ego stroked by said women have the same effect as it did for the three years following my divorce.

Simple, shallow, prideful and rapacious.

Those are the first words that come to mind when I think of Playboy Bunnies. Except Esmeralda Cullen, of course. Esme is none of those things. I glance over to the tasteful, yet provocative framed picture Carlisle has displayed of her on his desk. She is laid out on a bed of red satin sheets wearing her full black Bunny Costume, and a seductive, red painted smile. As a "Head Bunny", she is one of the only two girls in the club allowed to wear the classic black Bunny costume. My sister-in-law has got to be one of the most kind, humble and intelligent women I've ever known. Despite their nine year age gap, she is the perfect match for my annoying younger brother.

I must remain quiet a beat too long because with a disappointed sigh, he says, "Nevermind. I'll see if Eleazer wants to go."

For some reason unbeknownst to me, this time his disappointed sigh is like a dagger to the heart and even though I loathe to sit in a stuffy room full of elitist men and airheaded bimbos running around half naked, I begrudgingly agree. "Alright, I'll go. Fucking Christ, I didn't realize thirty-six year old men could pout like little girls."

He looks both shocked and elated at my agreeance but still manages to snap back, "Fuck you."

And with a wicked half grin and a wink, I retort, "Thanks for the offer, but you're not my type."

His snickers can still faintly be heard as I make my way down the hall to my corner office.

"Mr. Davis called. He wants to push the meeting up to Thursday. Regina, from accounting called. And so did your ex-wife." Joyce, my assistant, rattles off without ever looking up from her computer.

I merely grunt in response and close my door a little too forcefully. I know I'm a prick, but I've gone through thirteen assistants in the last three years because they were too busy making moony eyes at me to do their jobs properly. After three years of frustration, I've found that the more abrupt I am, the less likely they are to be all over me. At this point, Joyce is too afraid to try and flirt with me and it's a goddamn blessing. Just do your fucking job and leave me alone.

Christ.

Leaning back in my chair, I scrub my hand over my face and prioritize the calls I need to make. Kate can wait. Lord knows what the hell she wants this time. It's always something. I met Kate in my last year of graduate school at Harvard. She was this statuesque blonde that everyone wanted and she'd wanted me. I was flattered at how aggressively she'd pursued me and I quickly learned that Katie got whatever she wanted. Once she set her sights on something, she was relentless in her pursuit. After five years of marriage, it was apparent that we were just not compatible. Two dominant personalities just don't mesh well, no matter how hard you try. Kate is now working at a successful advertising agency in New York, exactly where she always wanted to be, with her new husband, Garrett. They're very happy together, or as happy as Kate allows them to be. I'm glad she's moved on, it's finally got her off my nuts.

Or so I thought.

I guess I'll find out soon enough, but first, I mentally prepare to call Mr. Davis back. Now he's a real piece of work. The man's company is in shambles, and if he doesn't sell, he's going to end up losing everything. His good name, his wealth, his legacy, everything. I don't know how else to explain it to him, and I'm frankly starting to lose my patience. It's far beyond time for him to let go. It's logical for him to let go. I feel for the old man, I really do, because despite what everyone thinks, I'm not a monster. But damn, I'm just not the schmoozing type. Mr. Davis calls at least once a day to talk about his grandchildren or to reminisce about his business's days of success, but I'm not one for idle chit chat so the calls frankly grate on my nerves. Its starting to feel like we're one step away from braiding each other's hair and holding each other's dicks.

I internally chuckle at my ridiculous thought and pick up the receiver to make the dreaded call. At the end of our conversation, however, I'm pleasantly surprised when Mr. Davis reveals that the reason he wants to push our meeting up to Thursday, is because he's finally ready to accept our offer. He figures that he better get the paperwork signed before he has second thoughts.

The relief I feel at his request is immense.

With the biggest issue at hand solved, I go ahead and call Kate back.

"Edward", she purrs into the phone before adding, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I don't know, Kate. You called me." Two seconds into the conversation and she's already annoying the shit out of me. "Why don't you just cut to the chase. I don't have a lot of time."

She sighs dramatically throwing in a jab before jumping into her request, "You work too much, you're gonna give yourself grey hair. But that's not why I called." I reach up, subconsciously to the hair at my temples. The hair I know is peppered with grey, wondering how it is that she can manage to make me feel inadequate even from eight hundred miles away. Forcing myself back to the conversation at hand I catch the most important part of her babbling, "...when was the last time you even set foot in that house, Edward? You know how much I love the beach."

I don't even need her to repeat herself to know that she's pleading for the beach house in Nantucket again. I may not have had the time or desire to visit there lately, but she knows how much that home means to me. There's no way in hell I'd ever sell it. Out on that water is the only place I'm ever truly happy. The only place I'm at peace. "No, Kate. I'm not selling it. I told you that the last time you asked. Get it out of your head. It's never going to happen. Why don't you and Garrett buy your own house out there?"

"Oh, please. You know as well as I do that we'd never be able to afford a house like that one."

"Sounds like a personal problem to me, Kate. I've got to go. This work won't do itself."

"Okay, okay. You win, Edward. But do us all a favor and enjoy that property. Don't let it waste away while you're too busy working. It's too beautiful to waste. Life is too beautiful to waste. Take care, Edward." With those final parting words, the line goes dead.

The rest of the work day flies by as I start preparing the documents for the Davis acquisition and before I know it Carlisle is standing in my doorway urging me out the door and on to the club. With one last huff of annoyance, I grab my suit jacket, overcoat, wallet and keys and we head out the door.

Being who we are, and the amount of clout that we have, the hostess seats us up in the VIP area, as expected. I undo the button on my suit jacket and take a seat in one of the black, oversized leather chairs overlooking the main floor and stage. I've forgotten what a great atmosphere this club has; From the masculine, yet elegant decor to the fantastic house jazz band playing softly in the background. I take a moment to observe my surroundings, noting that aside from a handful of new Bunnies everything looks and feels exactly the same as it always has.

"Do you see Esme?" My brother leans his head toward me, but doesn't stop surveying the floor down below, of course, searching for his wife. The seating in the VIP area is set up in smaller groupings to make the large open area feel more private. We are occupying two plush leather chairs angled slightly toward each other with a small silver table in between the armrests. There are four of these similar chair groupings as well as two larger groupings with four chairs set in a semi circle and one grouping with a circular sofa and coffee table in the middle.

"She should be up here somewhere. She works VIP, correct?" Agitated, I look over my shoulder at the purple Bunny approaching the three gentlemen seated behind us and wonder where the fuck our Bunny is. We've been sitting here for what feels like forever.

"Are you always such an asshole?", my brother asks, rolling his eyes as he gestures toward the blue Bunny making a beeline for our table.

"Yes." Is my curt reply just as she steps from the shadows and stops right in front of us.

Annoyance flashes in her eyes before she turns toward my brother with a smile. Her voice is liquid sex; throaty and deep, "Good evening, gentlemen, I am your Bunny Isabella. May I see your Playboy keys, please?" She swipes my brother's and then she turns toward me, holding her hand out. She swipes mine as well, and then smiles a full, gleaming smile as she hands them back to us. I use the moment she's busy taking Carlisle's order to unabashedly rake my gaze over her body. Christ almighty, does this bunny have a body. I've never been attracted to small women, but then again I've never seen one put together quite like this. She's all legs and ass and tits and somehow still slender and petite. In a single word, this woman is stacked. I'm just starting to fantasize about where I want to put my hands first when I feel a sharp kick to my ankle.

Pissed, I look over at my brother who impatiently gestures toward the Bunny. Feeling all kinds of awkward for getting caught leering like some kind of oversexed pervert, I automatically snap at her, "What?" I know I'm an ass and I feel even worse when I see her cheeks fill with color. It's obvious that she's embarrassed, but I have to give her props for maintaining her composure. With forced calmness, she smiles and repeats her question, "What will you be drinking this evening, Mr. Cullen?"

"Scotch. Top shelf. Neat."

She nods her head and scurries away at my abrupt tone, but I'm too mortified to feel bad. I immediately tug at my hair and then scrub my hand down my face. I'm just about to take a trip down self-loathing-lane when Carlisle's voice interrupts me.

"Brother, what the fuck was that? You looked like you were gonna eat her alive!" He bursts out laughing, loud, deep, gut busting guffaws, "Dude, you should've seen your face!"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole. Did you see her face? She's a fucking child! I'm going to hell. Straight to fucking hell, man, fuck! Is she even old enough to work here?"

Placing my elbows on my knees, I drop my head into my hands and side-eye my asshole brother as he tries to contain his laughter. "Dude, seriously."

"I'm sorry, I know. But damn, what was that? That was the most intense moment I've ever seen two people share. She looked like she was about to cream her panties."

My head snaps toward him at this new revelation.

"She did?"

He looks my way, silently assessing me for a moment before he answers, "Yeah, but what does that matter? She's an infant, remember?" I know he doesn't mean that. He's challenging me and it's making me really fucking uncomfortable. I mean, I can't deny her beauty, nor can I deny the moment we had. The air was practically crackling with the connection flowing between us. But she's young. Very young. Too young. And way out of my league, if we're being completely honest here. What would a young vivacious woman like Bunny Blue want with an old man like me? And a complete asshole to boot. She probably has a boyfriend, one of those college jock, gym rat types. Don't get me wrong, I take damn good care of my body, but there's no way I could compete with a college guy. Why does the thought of her with some younger meathead make me feel like a rock is sitting in my stomach?

Thank the heavens above, Bunny Blue gets back before I'm forced to acknowledge my brother's implications.

I watch as she does her little dip and places our drinks onto the small table and with a final little flourish of her dainty hand she smiles that beautiful smile that reaches her eyes, "Enjoy, gentlemen."

I waive my hand at her dismissively, but that doesn't stop me from staring at her ass as she walks away. And if I'm not mistaken, there's a little extra sway in it as she does.

I can't stop the smirk from forming on my lips, so I lift my glass and pretend to take a drink to hide it. I'm apparently not successful because I hear a chuckle from the seat next to me. So I do what any mature thirty-eight year old man would do, and that, of course, is to give the owner of that chuckle the one finger salute.

It's not long after Bunny Blue sashays away that Esme stops by for a very brief chat. "Hey boys. How's Isabella treating you this evening?"

Carlisle gets an evil glint in his eye before answering, "Eddie's got a crush."

"Is that so?" Esme asks with a twinkle in her eye.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole, I do not."

Esme fights back a knowing smile as Carlisle retorts, "Yes he does. He so does."

"What are you? Twelve?" God he pisses me off.

"Isabella's certainly a beauty. She's honestly one of the sweetest girls I've ever met here at the club, too. Even Carmen likes her." Esme's voice is surprisingly sincere when she adds, "A little birdie may have told me that this 'hot older guy' has her all flustered as well."

My brother interjects before I get a chance to grill Esme about what more Bunny Blue said, "Oh, really? And so the plot thickens."

Esme just shakes her head and throws me a wink as she heads off back to check on her tables. Her revelation does give me something to think about though. Is it possible that she might be even just a tiny bit interested in me? Grey hair and all? Would it even be possible to make it work with such a huge age gap? I mean, that girl can't be more than twenty-one, twenty-two at the most. We are in completely different places in our lives. I'm ready to settle down and she's just barely getting started. I don't know. I guess it's possible. Carlisle and Esme make it work.

Fuck.

I don't want to get ahead of myself because I don't even know if she's actually interested.

I guess there's only one way to find out.

I scan the room looking for her and find her in the corner giggling with Esme. Their heads are close together and every few seconds one of them glances my way. I take a shameless moment to admire her breathtaking beauty from head to toe, adjusting my pants as I do. Even from this distance I can see the blush staining her cheeks.

Interesting.

With new resolve, I wave her over. Admittedly a lot less prickish this time.

It's on little girl.

* * *

Okay, this is the point where we really need to decide if we keep going or not. What do you say?

Reviews are love.

Kisses, Laila xxoo


	4. Chapter 4

Hello there! Thank you so much for the outpouring of love. You guys make my life.

Since FFN won't allow links, the easiest way to find the Pintrest board is simply to search: The Bunny Ranch (in Pintrest, of course)

Let's be friends on Twitter: lailabentz

A special thank you to Princess07890 for cleaning up my horrific grammar. Go check out her stories.

I own nothing, except a bottle of cheap vodka.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

"Oh my gosh, he said that?"

I can't help the whisper giggle that escapes my mouth when she tells me that Mr. Cullen is definitely attracted to me.

Mr. Cullen is masculinity personified; I won't deny that. His gorgeous face is all sharp lines and clean angles with perfectly styled hair and a hint of scruff on that very lickable jawline. The only pretty thing about him is those green eyes, but even those are shadowed by heavy dark brows. And the permanent frown only adds to his appeal. He's an asshole though. A sexy asshole, but an asshole nonetheless.

Esme rolls her eyes as she answers me, "Well, not exactly but I've known him a long time. I can tell. Also, he can't keep his eyes off of you." He covertly slides his gaze away from me when I look his direction but he can't fool me. I saw it. I'm still looking his way, admiring how big he is and how his very presence seems to dominate the room when I ask, "Then why is he such a jerk?"

"Edward is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. He's really a great guy though, once you get past the rough exterior. He's generous, kind, and loyal to a fault."

I look at Esme like she's got a third head. Seriously, who does this guy think he is? God's gift to humanity?

"He sounds like a spoiled brat. You know, the kind that didn't spend enough time in the timeout box and never learned to share properly."

I glance over at him once more. Okay, maybe he is God's gift to humanity. And maybe I do think he's the hottest guy I've ever laid eyes on, but he doesn't need to know that. My cheeks heat at my inner musings, but before I can worry too much about it, he waves me over.

Esme chuckles before replying, "It's a bit more complicated than that, but I'll admit that his public outward demeanor is a bit off putting."

His eyes hold an intensity that makes my lower belly clinch, but I steel my resolve to not let him get to me. I whisper to Esme as I plaster a smile on my face and head over to him, "Wish me luck."

She snorts as she answers. "Honey, you don't need it, but good luck."

With a deep breath, I push my shoulders back and saunter back across the room. I don't know why the zillion butterflies choose this moment to take flight in my stomach, but I force myself to ignore them and pretend to be far more confident than I actually feel. His gaze slides down my body like a caress, then slowly makes its way up finally settling on my face as I walk toward him. He looks at my lips, then at my eyes, and I notice that there is far more warmth in those shockingly green orbs then there was earlier.

When I finally reach him, I bend over, arching my back a little more than necessary, to pick up his empty glass. I linger just a beat too long, bat my eyelashes once, and smile big enough to accentuate the dimple in my left cheek. Yeah, you're not the only one who can play this game, buddy.

"Can I get you a refill, Mr. Cullen?" A wave of satisfaction washes over me when I see his pupils dilate and his adam's apple bob as he swallows. He regains his composure disappointingly quickly, however, and arches his eyebrow as he replies smoothly, "Actually, Bunny Blue, I'd like to step out of my comfort zone a little. Try something new. What do you think?" He steadily holds my gaze while rubbing his long, elegant fingers across his stubbled chin. Good Lord, did someone turn up the heat in here? Because it's suddenly stifling hot. I can feel my body leaning toward him like a magnet. A hussy magnet.

Oh no you don't, you infuriatingly gorgeous man. You will not reel me in that easily.

"I think it's important to try new things; you never know when you're going to find a new favorite. May I suggest a Rob Roy? Perhaps with Black Grouse?" My response is confident and professional, a direct juxtaposition to my body language.

Bella - 1

Edward - 0

I choose this particular cocktail, especially with a bold smoky scotch, because he is, in fact, a scotch drinker. And, as a side note, can I just say how hot that is? There is something so incredibly sexy about a guy who can drink scotch well. I know he'll like the flavor of the Rob Roy, but let's see if he can get past the fact that it's a cocktail. Something tells me that there isn't a feminine bone in Edward Cullen's body and he's going to have a hard time allowing himself to enjoy the drink.

"Carpe diem, Bunny Blue; as long as I don't grow a vagina while drinking it, I'm willing to give it a shot."

His voice is so deep and it takes all of my composure to sass back, "Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" I smirk at him from over my shoulder as I turn to ask the other Mr. Cullen if he'd like a refill.

I make my rounds to check on my other tables and find that most of the patrons are fun in their flirtations, but not creepy. I'm truly having a great time.

Who knew that I would actually have fun while paying off three hundred thousand dollars of debt?

About an hour later, Edward and Carlisle ask to close out their tabs and get ready to leave. I've built a good report with them and even got Edward to smile a couple of times, much to Carlisle's amusement. Another table momentarily holds me up before I'm able to get their tabs closed, though and Edward's good mood goes down the drain. I can tell by his demeanor the second I make it back to their table that he's pissed.

"We don't have all day to wait around while you flirt with everyone in sight." His words are curt and, frankly, out of line, but I maintain my professionalism even when all I want to do is throttle him.

Look around, Edward, you're not the only customer here, and, believe it or not, the world doesn't revolve around you. That's what I want to say. But what I actually say is, "I apologize for the delay, Mr. Cullen. I know your time is valuable. I hope your next visit to the Playboy Club is more enjoyable." My words are the epitome of professionalism but my tone is full of sass. And with those parting words, I set his billfold down and walk away.

By the time nine o'clock rolls around, I'm famished and my feet are killing me, despite my trusty gel inserts. As soon as I get to the back hallway, I take my shoes off, deciding to just walk barefoot to the Bunny Lounge. Once I get inside and put my robe on over my costume, I trudge over to the microwave to warm up my dinner. Rose is sitting at the small table with her feet wrapped in towels so I take the empty seat and gesture to her feet.

"What's wrong with your feet?"

"Nothing. Carmen told me to use ice packs during break or I'll never get my shoes back on. There's two more in the freezer."

I retrieve the old fashioned pink ice packs and put them over my feet before speaking again, "How's it going out there?"

Here eyes light up as she looks up from her magazine. "It's awesome. I'm having so much fun. Hardly any creeps. You? What's it like in VIP? I hear that's where most of the pricks are; of course, that's also where the celebrities and professional athletes are, as well, so I guess it's a trade off, huh?"

I swallow the spoonful of mac 'n cheese before I answer, "I met Derrick Rose tonight, so that was exciting. And, yeah, there are a few pretentious douchebags but mostly everyone's been decent so far. The tips are outrageous."

"Derrick Rose? God, I hate you so much, you lucky bitch." Rose is probably the biggest sports fanatic I know.

"You love me."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I gotta get back." She looks inside my bowl as she leaves the kitchenette, "Is that Spongebob mac 'n cheese? What are you, five?"

My cheeks flame at her ribbing, but more so because it makes me think about Edward. Would he be turned off knowing that I eat juvenile snack foods? Why do I even care? He's an epic asshole.

Fuck.

I slide my refreshed feet back into my heels, re-apply my deep red lipstick, and toss the rest of the mac 'n cheese in the trash. I can think more about that later. Right now, I've got some tips to earn.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch and I end up taking home almost nine hundred dollars in tips. If I can keep earning at this rate, it won't be too terribly long until I can start planning for the future, instead of dealing with the past.

I wonder if I'll see Edward again on Thursday. I hope I don't. Or, at least that's what I keep telling myself. However, when my entire shift comes and goes and there's no trace of him, I feel conflicted. I'm both relieved and disappointed, but I also feel oddly rejected. Maybe he wasn't as interested as I thought. It's not like it matters, anyway. I have more important things to worry about than some stupid, sexy, frowny, old fuddy duddy. Who, might I add, is the biggest, most narcissistic asshole I've ever met.

An hour later, find myself on the couch with an empty tub of triple chocolate fudge ice cream, a half eaten bowl of cheesy SpongeBobs, and an empty bottle of wine, wondering why someone so devastatingly handsome can be so damn rude. Like, who do you think you are to be snapping your fingers at people and dismissing them with nothing more than a flick of the wrist? Didn't this guy learn any manners?

Seriously.

I'm young, smart, and funny, and I have awesome boobs. Not to mention I can kick anyone's ass at Charades and Trivial Pursuit. I'm telling you, I'm a catch. At the very least, I deserve someone who's respectful to those around him. Not some jerk with entitlement issues. Why is it that the first guy to make my heart race is the biggest jerk of them all? Just my luck.

Needless to say waking up Friday morning is rough.

Really rough.

Last night, I had a moment of weakness, but I vow from this point forward not to let Edward Cullen affect me. I keep myself busy by straightening up my apartment and cleaning out the fridge until it's two thirty, and time to head for the club.

I meet up with Lauren and Emily in the parking lot, so we end up walking into the Lounge together. Before the door even has a chance to close, Alice has me by the hand, dragging me into the Vanity Room.

"Omigod, Bella, you have to see this. We've been waiting forever for you to get here."

As she pulls me through the archway, I finally see what all of the commotion is about. There, sitting on top of my vanity, is the biggest bouquet I've ever seen in my life. There's got to be at least four-dozen white roses, tied together with a dark blue bow.

Holy shit.

"Well, come on! Open the card." Alice squeals from right behind me. I stay locked in my current position with my hand over my mouth until Rose urges me along, "You'd better hurry up. It's taken all of us here to keep Alice from opening it herself." I finally pull my gaze away from the overwhelming bouquet and look at her. She remains quiet, but gently nudges me with her shoulder.

I make my way over to the flowers and pluck the card from where it's tucked inside, and sit down with one leg tucked underneath me. The floral fragrance surrounds me as I slide the card from the envelope and read:

Bunny Blue,

These flowers don't hold a candle to your beauty, but they'll have to do.

You're having dinner with me tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at seven.

~Edward

It's not a question. It's not a request. It's a demand, and I can only think of one answer.

No.

No one is allowed to make demands of me but me. If he thinks otherwise, then he's got another thing coming. I'm not desperate and refuse to be at anyone's beck and call.

I flip the card over, looking for what, I don't know. I guess that means that he'll be in tonight. I read the elegant script on the card again, just to commit them to memory. God, the nerve of him! I had no idea he could be this presumptuous. I can't wait to see him. A slow smile spreads across my face at the mere thought of his reaction when I tell him no, and suddenly I've got eight girls bombarding me with questions.

"Well, who are they from?"

I take a deep breath, trying to contain my emotions, and then look up at everyone through the mirror.

"Edward Cullen."

"Eww, isn't he old? Like even older than Carlisle?" Tanya pinches her face with the question, while turning to face Esme with an apologetic shrug. Esme merely places her hand up in a gesture that says no apology is needed.

He may get under my skin, but he's certainly not old or gross. "He's not old, he's distinguished. And, to be honest, I'm not sure which one is older." I look over to Esme for the answer.

"Edward is older."

"No offense, Bella, but I still think that's kind of gross." Tanya adds.

Rose interjects while rolling her eyes,

'How is receiving however many dozen roses from one of the most good looking, sophisticated and successful men in Chicago gross? Sounds to me like Bella hit the jackpot. If I wasn't stupidly in love with Emmett, I might even be jealous."

God, I love Rose.

Tanya thinks about it for a moment before answering, "I guess you're right. It's not my thing, but who am I to judge your crush? I'm happy for you, Bella."

"Thank you, Tanya, really. But I'm not going."

"What? Why?" Alice's pout is adorable, but completely misplaced.

"Because he's a complete asshole. He was nothing but pompous and rude the night I met him. Then he has the audacity to tell me instead of asking me to have dinner with him. No thank you."

The pure shock on everyone's face is almost comical.

"The man sends you four dozen roses, and you're gonna say no? That man is, like, smokin' hot. You're an idiot!" Jessica's voice is incredulous, which just serves to annoy me more.

"Look, Jess, I'm not denying that he's gorgeous, nor am I denying that I'm very, very attracted to him. But it's going to take a lot more than some roses to make up for how rude he's been. I can't be bought."

After that, there are rounds of questions, unsolicited advice, and even a few envious jabs, but, all in all, I'd say the girls are supportive of my choice. Even more resolved than ever, I shower and get ready for the night.

Just as I'm gluing my last eyelash on, Jacob comes barging through the door in all his tight black tee shirt and rhinestone cowboy boot glory. "What's this I hear about your upcoming date with the Edward Cullen? Are these the flowers? Let me see the note. Honey, what I wouldn't give to spend one night with that hunk of man meat. What are you gonna wear?"

"Yes, these are the flowers. But there is no date because I'm not going. And you and Edward is so not an image I want bouncing around in my head."

"Why not? I bet he has a big dick. Let a queen live vicariously through you."

"Out, Jake. I only have twenty minutes until I have to be at my perch." I blow him an air kiss to help soothe the sting of my harsh tone; I know all is well when he returns it. I make it to my perch with one minute to spare.

"I told you he was into you." Esme says as I take my place next to her.

"Is he always this extravagant?" It won't matter if she says yes; but, I kind of hope she doesn't.

"I've never seen him do something like that. Ever." She looks me straight in the eye as she clearly makes her point. "He's dated, of course, but I've never seen or heard of him putting in quite so much effort, if you know what I mean."

"You call that effort?" I know I'm being sassy, but I can't help being a little hurt that she's so willing to overlook the fact that he's been mean to me.

"Actually, yes. Now, I'm not excusing his behavior, but I'd venture to say that four dozen roses delivered to your work is a pretty big grand gesture."

"I don't want grand gestures, Esme, I just want him to be a decent human being. One that doesn't treat people as though they are beneath him; like we're put on earth to serve his every whim. Look, I'm not blind. I saw a glimpse of that great guy you talk about. But it's going to take much more than a glimpse to change my mind."

She nods her head in resignation. "You're a tough cookie, Bella Swan. You never know, you may be just the one to crack him. Lord knows many have tried."

I don't want to acknowledge why that last statement bothers me as much as it does. With an exasperated, yet amused shake of my head, I offer her a weak smile and head off to my first table of the evening. There's no more time to think about Edward Cullen. I have work to do.

About two hours into my shift, I finally see him and Carlisle being escorted to my section. I give myself a moment to enjoy the view before I head over because, damn, can that man wear a suit.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I'm your Bunny, Isabella. May I see your Playboy keys?" I smile at him before turning to Carlisle and taking his card. "Thank you, Mr. Cullen. What will you be drinking this evening?" Carlisle smiles a sly smile. "Mr. Cullen makes me feel old, just call me Carlisle. And I'll take one of those cocktails you suggested for my brother last time."

"Of course, Carlisle. And for you, Mr. Cullen?" I try to maintain my composure as the butterflies in my stomach take flight; I have a mission and I'm determined to see it through. "I rather like the sound of you calling me Mr. Cullen, Bunny Blue."

He smiles a sexy half smile at me before continuing, "But, I suppose, under the circumstances, it would be more appropriate for you to call me Edward. That is, of course, if you're accepting my dinner request?" He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for a reply.

He thinks he's so smooth.

"Actually, Mr. Cullen, I'm going to have to decline dinner."

"I see." Coldness sweeps over his features and tightness settles in his eyes as he considers my unexpected words. He clears his throat before asking, "Might I ask why?"

There's a vulnerability in his eyes when he looks up at me again. I can tell he's hurt by my rejection, although I'm sure he'd never admit it. It pains me to hurt anyone, but he'll never truly respect me if I jump at his every command.

"Well, for starters, you demanded my presence at dinner. You didn't request it. That was offensive to me."

"You do realize how many women would give their eye teeth to be in your position right now?" He interrupts me, clearly pissed.

"Well, clearly I'm not one of those women, Mr. Cullen. And, while in this place of business, my job is, indeed, to serve you; I'm a server, not a servant. You'd do well to learn the difference."

"Well, in that case, I'll have a scotch. Top shelf. Neat." He shifts uncomfortably before adding on a quiet, "Please." It's a clear afterthought, but I value the effort all the same. I smile tightly at him in thanks and turn to walk away.

Of course, I was expecting him to be angry at my refusal, and he did sulk for the better part of an hour, but, soon enough, he was back to his usual gruff self, with perhaps a bit of softer edge. At times, I'd even say he was witty and oddly charming, with a dry sense of humor that straddled the line of propriety.

But, what I didn't expect, was to catch him looking at me with troubled, wistful eyes when he thought I wasn't paying attention.

* * *

Uh oh, looks like Bella isn't going to jump at his every command. Looks like our Edward has a thing or two to learn about the average woman. Do you think he was out of line? How can he win her over?

Kisses, Laila


	5. Chapter 5

Well hello there! Thank you so much for the love, you guys are making writing this story a blast. Bella is a feisty one, eh? Poor, Edward. Let's see what he's up to.

Thank you so very much to princess07890 for cleaning up my grammar and for yummy bars *insert cryface with hearteyes*

Let's be friends on Twitter! lailabentz

The easiest way to find the Pintrest board is just to search: The Bunny Ranch

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~EPOV~**

Isabella Swan is going to be the death of me.

I swear it.

She is the most infuriating woman on the planet, and she's driving me fucking crazy. I don't know what kind of voodoo witchcraft she's cast on me, but I haven't been able to get her out of my head since the little stunt she pulled last Friday. It's been nine days since she handed me my ass, nine days since she flat out rejected me, and nine days since I've seen her beautiful face.

I'm still pissed.

And, admittedly, a lot turned on.

Bunny Blue is fierce. I'd thought, upon meeting her, that she was just some young, shallow, and meek girl with a hot body. But, I'm starting to think that there's much more to her than that and it's obvious that she's not going to easily bend to my will. She by no means has a dominant personality; quite the opposite, in fact. No, what she has is a very healthy amount of self-respect. She's not afraid to stand up for herself, and I'm shocked to find that incredibly refreshing and quite sexy.

But I'm still pissed.

I have no doubt that she's attracted to me. I just need to figure out what the problem is. Is she just playing hard to get? Or is there an actual issue? I tried to get Esme to tell me, but she won't. She says it's not her place to say anything, and that if I really want to know, that I should man up and talk to Isabella personally.

The problem with that plan is that I've never had to chase women before, and I'm not so sure I'm willing to start now. I'm used to only having to spout off a few pretty words and unleash a half grin. That's about the extent I've ever had to go to seal the deal, so to speak. If I really enjoyed the woman's company, then I'd throw in a handful of impressive dates and a few nice gifts.

Easy.

So, what seems to be the problem with Isabella? I even sent her flowers for Christ's sake. _Twice_. I've never done the flower thing. Not since Kate. And, even then, it was only when she expected them.

Whatever.

I'm Edward fucking Cullen! I'm a rich, successful, and very powerful man. It's her loss, and I'm done fucking thinking about it. I'm done thinking about _her_.

Luckily, I promised Carlisle that I'd catch the game with him and Eleazar at the new sports bar they opened inside the Playboy Club. That ought to be a nice distraction. Good beer, wings, new Bunnies, and no Isabella. Sounds like paradise to me.

I'm determined to get Bunny Blue out of my head, any way I can.

I met Eleazar in my second year at Harvard. I'd discovered that he was also from Chicago, and we became fast friends. I was studying international business and he was studying corporate law.

After I graduated, I started Cullen Enterprises with my trust fund. It took almost two years to get it off the ground, but, as soon as it did, I brought Eleazar on board as our Corporate Council. Less than a year after that, Carlisle graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill with his MBA in Finance, and I brought him on as Chief Financial Officer or CFO. It was simultaneous with Carlisle's addition to the company that we bought our first local business.

Hugh Heffner wanted to open The Bunny Ranch. He had big dreams and big ideas about what he could turn the property into. I think he was having a bit of nostalgia about his original clubs and desperately wanted one that worked. One that carried on the legacy he'd spent nearly a lifetime building. He envisioned full glamor, full fantasy. He wanted exclusivity and mystery. He wanted only people who understood, and, most importantly, people who respected what Playboy stood for to have access to live the fantasy.

The problem was that Playboy had hit some financial trouble, and Heff needed financial backing. My father, who'd been a lifetime member of the original club, was well enough acquainted with Heff to pass on my name. Lucky for me, we got the call.

Cullen Enterprises supplied the money, Playboy supplied the name, and The Bunny Ranch was born.

We, as a business, decided to remain silent partners, and the only aspect of the business we have any outside input on was the way the Bunnies are trained, treated, and maintained. I believe that they are the key to The Bunny Ranch's success. If you keep them happy, you keep them loyal. And, if you keep them loyal, you maintain exclusivity in all aspects. We only employ the classiest of women, who, in turn, attract the most exclusive men, which results in a very lucrative business venture.

That is a small and insignificant portion of Cullen Enterprises as a whole, however.

Since then, we've added hundreds of employees and slowly become one of the most powerful companies in the world. We've made the Forbes top one hundred businesses every year for the last ten years. That's something I'm very proud of; I've personally made Forbes lists consistently over the past ten years as well. Those lists, however, I can do without. Those lists seem to bring the most abhorrent women out of the woodwork. And, trust me, fending off vile, status seeking women gets exhausting.

Anyhow, Carlisle, Eleazar, and I arrive at The Playboy Sports Lounge just after one o'clock. It's an impressive concept split up into three areas: The Bar, which is just a normal sports bar setup with a long bar-top, high tables, and wall-mounted flat screen TVs; there's The Billiard Room, which has standard table seating along with billiard tables and dart stations, and, finally, there's The Lounge, with movie theater style seating and three large, projection-style TV screens. The entire space is elegant, yet masculine, and I can definitely see myself spending my Sundays here. To be honest, the last few visits to the Playboy Club make me wonder why I stayed away so long.

After we check in our coats, we decide to have lunch in the bar area during pregame. We'll then move to the lounge for the main event. The Bears are hosting the Eagles so it ought to be a good game. Eleazar and his wife, Carmen, are originally from Philly, so it's always fun to give him a hard time. Carmen, along with Esme, is the other "Head Bunny". She's the oldest of the Bunnies, but she still looks damn good at thirty-three.

Once we're seated, it isn't long until our Bunny makes her way over.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm your bunny, Rachel. May I see your Playboy Keys, please?" I take the moment she's occupied with the others to check her out. She's a pretty girl, no doubt, but the orange crop jersey and tiny micro shorts don't really do anything but emphasize the fact that this Bunny has no ass. It's obvious that they're meant to show some cheek, but this poor girl has no cheek to show, so they just look kind of awkward.

I'm an ass man; what can I say?

By the time she gets to me, she's all seductive smiles and flirtatious eyes, but I can't stop the thought that they're the wrong eyes. I want brown eyes, not hazel. And I want dark brown hair that teases the small of her back, not light brown hair that barely touches her shoulders. And I want a nice plump ass that actually hangs out of the bottom of those damned shorts, not the stick figure standing in front of me. And I don't want orange, dammit, I want blue.

So much for getting Isabella out of my head.

Now I'm in a foul mood, because this orange Bunny won't stop touching me. And, to top it off, she brings me the wrong beer.

I try my best to control my annoyance as I waive her back over and, as politely as possible, point out her mishap. "I asked for a Pilsner, not a Black Butte."

"But I already opened that one." She whines as she points toward the black bottle.

I grit my teeth and take a deep breath before answering, "This is not the beer that I ordered. Bring me a Pilsner."

"But Carmen will be mad! And she's such a bitch when she's mad! This is the third time I messed up this week, please don't make me tell her. Pretty please! I'll do anything." She says the last part looking up from under her lashes.

What the hell?

First of all, she just insulted one of my best friend's wife, and she doesn't even take her job seriously enough to get the order right because she's too busy trying to figure out a way into my pants. I pinch the bridge of my nose and try my best not to unleash my anger on her, but it's getting harder by the second. With a huff of annoyance, I'm about to explain why I'm not going to drink a beer that I didn't order, when Isabella seems to come from out of nowhere. The deep blue of her uniform setting off her coloring perfectly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, gentlemen." She smiles her gorgeous dimpled smile and then turns toward me, "Here you go, Mr. Cullen. One ice cold Pilsner, on the house. Your food should be out shortly." She gives a sneaky glare toward Rachel before grabbing her hand with a forced smile and dragging her away. I can't help but stare at her perfect, round backside as she walks away.

Now that's how those shorts are supposed to look. They should be goddamned illegal. And so should those two tiny dimples at the base of her spine.

Christ.

I scrub my hand down my face, and then tug at my hair while I think about the fact that I was not expecting to see her here today. And how now, upon seeing her, I'm even more conflicted than ever. I glance around the bar area, stealthily looking for blue bunny ears and find them at a table across the room. Shamelessly, my eyes dart to the fluffy tail pinned to the back of those sinful shorts. I drop my gaze down to her tiny feet encased in white sneakers, then slide it up the long white socks to her shapely, bare thighs, past that robust bottom to her exposed, narrow waist, full breasts, long elegant neck, pink pouty lips, and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. Eyes that are looking at me like I just got caught ogling.

Shit.

I covertly move my attention back to the conversation at my table. A few minutes later, I see Bunny Blue heading toward us carrying a tray that looks far too heavy for her. She expertly sets it down on a tray stand and starts placing the platters on the table.

"My goodness, are you planning to feed an army here?" She teases with a smile.

"Hey, now, we're growing boys." Eleazar fires back, good naturedly. She sets a hand on both mine and Eleazar shoulders as she states, "What boys are you talking about? I only see men at this table." She looks right at me and smirks and I swear I feel her fingers caress the back of my neck as she drags her hand away.

"You got that right, sweetheart!" Carlisle says with a laugh. She chuckles and rolls her eyes before letting us know she'll be right back with a fresh round of beers.

"What happened to the other Bunny?" I ask as I load my plate up with a variety of chicken wings. Not that I mind the switch one bit. I'd take Bunny Blue over anyone else any day.

"Bro, didn't you hear Eleazar call Carmen over to complain? He requested a new Bunny, and she asked if Isabella would be an acceptable replacement." Carlisle says to me with a look that implies I should know what's going on.

"Ed has no idea what happened because he was too busy salivating over her when she was still in that other section." Eleazar laughs as he points toward Bunny Blue.

Carlisle, the fucking asshole that he is, joins right in, "That's nothing, man; you should've seen him a couple weeks ago. The first time he saw her, he looked like he was gonna eat her alive! He wants her so bad. It's fucking hilarious."

"Ha ha, motherfucker, shut the fuck up." I glare at Carlisle before turning my attention to the announcers on the pregame show. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I catch a glimpse of her flirting with a table full of what looks to be college guys. Probably here on daddy's pass. It's fucking annoying how much that pisses me off.

And here she comes in with her long legs and perky ass.

"I brought you each a glass of water with your beer. I thought you'd want to pace yourselves before the game so you don't end up like those guys." She chuckles as she points her thumb in the direction of the hooligans from earlier.

"Thank you, Bunny Blue." I unleash the full panty-dropping smile, but she merely nods her head at me before speaking, "Did you know that it takes three thousand cows to supply the NFL with enough leather for a year's supply of footballs?"

When we all stare at her blankly, she shrugs her shoulder and adds, "Just a bit of trivia for you." And with that, she collects our empty beer bottles and saunters away.

How is she so unaffected by me? That smile always gets a reaction.

"So, tell me again why you're not hitting that, Ed?" Eleazar's eyebrows are up to his hairline as he looks at me after watching her walk away.

"Fuck, man, I don't know. I'm trying."

"The ass on her."

I groan as I answer, "I know."

"Wait," Carlisle pipes in, "I thought you were trying to actually date her, not just sleep with her."

"I am." I state matter of factly, not really understanding what he's getting at.

"That's the problem, Ed. You can't treat her like the rest of your conquests. I guarantee that it's not gonna work with a girl like her."

"I'm not. I sent her flowers and everything. I don't know what more she wants from me."

"I heard about that." Eleazar says as he finishes off his beer. "You pulled out the big guns and she still shot you down. Carmen said that she's hot for you, though, so I'd say you still got a shot."

"I don't know. She flirts with everyone." I gesture with the neck of my beer bottle to her laughing with two older guys at another table.

"It's their job to flirt with everyone. Look at Carmen." I look over to catch Carmen winking at a younger guy who totally checks out her ass as she walks away.

"I guess. I don't know. She probably just flirts with me out of pity for an old man. She's got the entire world at her fingertips. She could have any man she wants, so realistically, what could she possibly want with a man seventeen years older than her? I really would like to take her out, though. I'm curious to see if there's anything more to her than a pretty face, but I doubt she'll ever agree, so it's a moot point."

"You guys gossip worse than old women." Isabella's voice sounds from behind me causing me to choke on the drink I'm currently taking. I look over at her as Carlisle pounds on my back to catch her amused smirk.

"Follow me, gentlemen. I've transferred your tabs to the bar; let's get you resituated in the lounge. The game is about to start."

We move into the top row of the theater seating; I have to say it's nice. It's much more spread out with three large screens so there's plenty of room for the Bunnies to pass through. Unfortunately, Isabella retreats back to the main bar area so I don't see her for the rest of the night. I do make sure to leave her a nice tip, however.

It's far too busy during the next week to even think about going to the club, but I still manage to call the florist for what's quickly becoming my Friday tradition of sending Isabella flowers. This time, however, instead of making demands or half-assed apologies, I take a cue from her, and try to achieve nothing more than to put a smile on that gorgeous face.

She seems to be completely immune to my charms, but I'm certainly not immune to hers.

 _Bunny Blue,_

 _Did you know that 400 quarter-pounders can be made from one single cow? So, according to you, the NFL is also potentially responsible for creating 1,200,000 burgers each year._

 _Just a bit of trivia for you._

 _~Edward_

* * *

By golly I think he's got it! What do you think Bella is going to say about the latest note with her weekly delivery of flowers? Do you think he's on the right track?

Reviews are love,

Laila xxoo


	6. Chapter 6

Oh, hai! Most of you seem to think Edward is on the right track. Let's see, shall we?

If you'd like to see the Pintrest board for pictures and visuals just search: The Bunny Ranch

Let's be friends on Twitter! lailabentz

A special thanks to my beta, Becky princess07890 for fixing my grammar

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

I stare at the card in shock, re-reading it twice, before falling into a fit of giggles. Who knew that grumpy, stuffy Edward Cullen had sense of humor? With a smile on my face, I admire the bouquet of white calla lilies that lay across my vanity. My gaze drifts over to the roses, then the tulips, and back to the calla lilies. I'm going to have to take one of these arrangements home. I'm running out of free space.

Mr. Cullen is nothing if not persistent. I can't say that I really mind it, though. Now, if we're being completely honest, I've never had someone pursue me like this. I appreciate that he backed off of the demands, but didn't back off of me completely. It gives me hope. Paired with what I overhead him say on Sunday, I think there might be a chance for us after all.

But I'm not ready yet. I still don't fully trust his intentions, and I'm not about to become his plaything. Plus, while I've made a significant dent in my father's debt, I still have a ways to go, and I'm not sure adding complications (in the form of sexy billionaires) to the mix would be in my best interest.

He'll have to prove that he's worth the added stress.

 _You have to give him a chance before he can prove anything,_ my inner rationalist muses _._

I choose to ignore that train of thought for now, and make my way to the showers. I ran out of the sample size shower cream that I'd been given, and ended up loving the scent, so I stopped by the third floor supply room to get a full size. They told us during boot camp that we would probably go through three or four perfumes before we found "the one", but, considering the amount of compliments I get every single day, I think I got lucky on the first try.

I think it's interesting the way the staff selects sample fragrances for each girl. They used these test strips to determine each of our personal pH levels and natural musk category, then slipped the test strip into a small machine that produces a list of compatible perfumes. We are then given small sample sizes of the top three matches, which are in nondescript bottles labeled with only a number. They use the labeling system to encourage the girls to choose based on how it works with our own body's chemistry rather than choose based on designer.

My perfect match ended up being Chanel No.5. Which is a bit surprising, because it's not something I would've ever chosen for myself. It's a classic, no doubt, but it's always struck me as a fragrance for a more mature lady. I guess that goes to show you what I know because I've gotten far more compliments on that perfume than any other I've ever worn _combined_.

My gaze drifts from the flowers to the collection of body wash, cream, and perfume in the elegant, classic black Chanel packaging. I never would have thought my life could be like this if you'd have asked me six months ago, but I'm beyond grateful.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, I'm beyond exhausted. I've picked up at least one extra shift per week since I started working in the club, and this is my first day off since last Monday. The problem is that I have so much to do today that it won't even feel like a day off. It's okay, though, because today I'm paying off the second of my father's debts.

I have an appointment at the Chase Manhattan Bank on West Monroe Street at nine o'clock this morning. If I time my bus route well, I'll have enough time to swing by Starbucks and get a salted caramel latte, my favorite.

When I get to the front of the line, the barista lets me know that my drink has already been paid for. When I question her, she gestures toward the end of the bar where the coffees are collected, and says, "By the gentleman, ma'am." I thank her, and then shove the ten dollar bill I was holding into the tip jar. I see the odd, reddish color of his hair as he reaches over the counter to collect his own coffee and rush over to catch him before he leaves.

"Did you know that Starbucks uses round tables so that solo coffee drinkers don't feel lonely?" He turns his attention toward me when I babble off my silly trivia. It's a nervous habit I've had since I was a kid, and boy does this man make me nervous.

"Is that so?" he asks with amusement dancing in his gorgeous eyes. I can only nod in acknowledgement.

If I thought this man's presence was intimidating inside the club, it pales in comparison to his presence here. He looked so laid-back on Sunday in a snug fitting Henley and worn in jeans. He had a couple days of stubble on his jaw, and his hair was in complete disarray. He was every bit as sexy, but he seemed more approachable. Today, however, he looks like a man in complete control. From his perfectly tailored three-piece suit, shiny black shoes, and wool overcoat, to his perfectly styled hair, ever so slightly peppered with gray at the temples, and a cleanly shaved face. Even his cologne is overwhelming, of course in the best possible way.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what brings you to my neck of the woods, Isabella?" He looks at me through the steam that's rising from his cup.

"Oh, I have a business meeting in the Chase building in just a few minutes."

"Pity, I thought perhaps you were stalking me." His green eyes twinkle with mirth exaggerated by fine lines the around them when he lifts the corner of his mouth lifts into that sexy smirk as he teases me.

Who knew wrinkles could be so damn hot?

His teasing catches me off guard. It's such a stark contrast to the serious businessman standing in front of me that I can't help the snort that escapes as I tease him back,

"You wish."

"You know I do."

His tone goes from playful to serious so quickly it gives me whiplash. I've gotta get out of here. I can't think when he's so close. So, with as much confidence and sass as I can muster, I smirk at him as the barista hands over my piping hot drink.

"Running into you this morning was a pleasant surprise, Mr. Cullen. Thanks for the coffee."

"Likewise, Bunny Blue. And you're very welcome."

His deep voice surrounds me as a walk away, making sure to sway my hips as I do.

Today is gonna be a great day.

Mr. Miller is all business when I step into his office on the eleventh floor. "Ms. Swan, nice of you to make it."

He shakes my hand firmly, and then gestures for me to take a seat in the worn mismatched chairs in front of his desk. I remove my black wool pea coat, and lay it across the unused chair before sitting. Something about his gaze makes me glad that I left my scarf wrapped around my neck. It feels like an added layer of protection in the drafty room.

"Here we are." He states when he successfully pulls up the account on his computer. He leans back in his chair, letting his beady eyes appraise me.

I fiddle with the hem of my skirt, thankful that I opted to wear dark tights when his gaze travels up my leg and stops at my thigh. Mr. Miller isn't an unfortunate looking man by any means, but something about him makes me desperately uncomfortable. I squirm in my seat and reach up to tuck a strand of hair that's escaped from my bun behind my ear.

"So, I brought all of the documentation that you asked for," I say as I pull a manila envelope from my bag, "And a cashier's check for the total amount."

I slide the envelope across the desk, looking everywhere but at him. I wish Angela was here with me instead of backpacking through Europe with Ben. She'd help me feel strong. Safe. My thoughts flicker for a moment to Edward. He brings out a whole barrage of feelings and emotions in me and never once has he ever made me feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"So, Ms. Swan, how long have you been employed with Playboy?" His eyes alight with interest as he waits for my answer.

"Um, about three months now." God, Bella, get it together.

"Aspiring centerfold? You certainly have the assets for that line of work." He makes sure to keep his eyes on my face as he says this.

"I don't see how this line of questioning is relevant to the transaction at hand, Mr. Miller." I can feel the panic rising like a snake up my spine. It's feels stifling in the room, and I force myself to take a deep breath.

"Oh, I apologize, Ms. Swan, I was merely trying to gauge a timeline of when the other two loans would be paid. That's all. Forgive me for being so intrusive." He's saying the right words, but his eyes give him away entirely.

"I'm in a bit of a rush. If you could get my receipt?"

He chuckles a bit and then proceeds to tell me that a transaction of this nature is going to take some time.

Three and a half hours and two near panic attacks later, I finally find myself outside of the building. I've missed my bus and it's going to be at least forty five minutes until the next one arrives.

I sit on the stone bench, wrapping my worn coat tighter around me against the winter chill when I notice the golden arches. An idea comes to mind, and I'm positive that it's one hundred percent foolish, but I can't find it in me to care.

One Google map search and fifteen dollars later I find myself stepping off the elevator on the thirty third floor of the Cullen Enterprises building. The reception area is gorgeous. Intimidating, just like him. I can almost see him in the details of the decor from the black leather seating, to the abstract art on the pale beige walls.

"Can I help you?" The girl behind the reception desk looks at me and then to the bag I'm carrying and then back to me. She looks young, and very pretty. Maybe this was a bad idea. Just as I lose my nerve, and turn to leave, I hear my name.

"Isabella?" I look toward the sound and see Carlisle walking toward me. "What's all this?" There's clear amusement in his eyes. I can feel my cheeks heat under his gaze, "I was in the neighborhood and, I dunno, I guess I wanted to surprise him. This was clearly a bad idea; he's probably very busy."

He smiles widely and gestures for me to follow him, "Isabella, this is a fantastic idea." He doesn't even bother knocking, he just barges right into Edward's massive office.

"Look what I found!" Carlisle's voice is loud and Edward turns to glare at him while covering the mouthpiece of the phone. But, when he sees me behind him, his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he promptly tells whoever he's on the phone with that he'll call them back before hanging up the phone. Edward glances from me, back to his brother, and then back to me, full of questions. I can only think to hold up the bag in explanation.

Carlisle chuckles before pointing his finger at us, "Have fun kids. Don't forget we have Miller at two."

Edward nods his head, but never looks away from me. Gosh, he's so intense.

I clear my throat and then place the bag on his desk. He raises his eyebrow but digs inside to find two quarter pounders. When he starts laughing, I smile and offer my explanation, "I thought the NFL could use some help disposing of all of the hamburgers."

Without thinking twice about it he picks up the phone and dials, "Joyce, hold all of my calls. If Miller calls, send it to Carlisle."

He picks up the McDonald's bag and leads me over to the sitting area. The cream and black oversized leather seats and low coffee table are a stark contrast to the dark walls and massive dark desk. The office is very intimidating, very _Edward_. But I still manage to feel comfortable, welcomed even. Exactly what I needed after this morning's experience.

"You don't really look like a McDonald's kind of guy, but, I was in the neighborhood, and I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They've all been lovely."

He nods around a huge bite of his sandwich, and swallows before answering, "I'm not, usually, but this looks too good to pass up. I'm glad you like the flowers. That's something…" He hesitates, looking a bit uncomfortable, before continuing, "... different for me."

"Is it because of my age?"

"No, Isabella. It's not your age. Your age does make me nervous, I'll admit. But the desire to do things for you, to actually get to know you? Well, that's something else entirely. It's unsettling." He laughs once, humorlessly, "I'm out of my realm of knowledge here." Those beautiful green eyes are once again filled with vulnerability as he looks up at me, but it's gone in an instant.

"I'm sorry I make you uncomfortable." I don't know what else to say.

"Not uncomfortable, Isabella, unsettled. I don't know how to impress you."

"Just talk to me, Edward. I'm not complicated. I just want you to see me as a person, not a conquest." I force myself to look him in the eye, so he can see my sincerity, "I realize how my profession can make me look, but I promise, I'm not after anything more than wanting to know you. The flowers are wonderful," I can't help the blush and wistful smile that spreads across my face at the thought of them, "But not necessary. I'd want to be here all the same if I'd never received them."

His smile is small but genuine, "Don't you realize that makes me want to do those things for you even more? And, for the record, I've never thought of you as a conquest."

He takes my silence as a cue to change the subject, "Tell me about your family, Isabella."

"Just Bella." I correct. I love the way my full name sounds on his tongue, but this feels more like a chat between friends, and, if I'm to keep a clear head, I can't keep hearing him say Isabella.

"Okay, just Bella. Tell me about your family." It's not that I'm ashamed of my childhood, quite the opposite, it's shaped me into the young woman I am today. It's just a bit heavy for our first getting to know you conversation. Oh, well. It's now or never.

"Um, there's not much to tell. My parents, Charles and Renee Swan, were killed in an auto accident when I was twelve. I had no living relatives that could be found at the time so I became a ward of the state. I went to live with a foster family, the Webbers, for about two years until my great aunt, Bess, was located in a small town outside of Seattle. I lived with her until she died. I was just a few months shy of eighteen. It's was rough, but I survived. I'm doing great now."

I force a smile, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. There's so much more to me than the unfortunate events of my past. But, when I look up at him, it's not pity I see; perhaps awe?

"Wow, you've done really well for yourself, for having such a rough start. I'm impressed. Although, I shouldn't be. You're a very strong young woman. What about school? Do you have aspirations of going to college?"

His genuine interest makes it easy to open up. "I truly love my job at the club; I'm hoping to make a career out of it, and, someday, God willing, have a family. I simply don't have the time to think about school. I know that's not really an ideal answer, because everyone should be concerned about their education, but my circumstances just don't allow for it. I'm grateful for the opportunity that I've been given. I don't intend to waste it."

"It's refreshing to see someone truly satisfied with their life, despite the hardships. So often you see people working toward the next achievement that they never stop to enjoy the here and now. I, myself, am guilty of that. Sometimes, I feel as though I've wasted my life building an empire with an abundance of wealth that I'll never get to fully enjoy. My life is passing me by."

"Each day is a new day to live as we choose, Edward. So, what's stopping you?"

He looks at me like he's looking for an answer to a puzzle he can't solve, and then, with firm resolve, he answers, "Nothing. Nothing at all. Bella, I've really enjoyed the time we spent together this afternoon, and I'd love to further explore the connection that I feel with you. I'm beyond touched by your thoughtfulness. The fact that you went out of your way to bring me lunch shows me more about your character than anything you could possibly say to me.

"I'd really like to see you again. I don't know how to ask you in a way that you'll say yes, but let me take you out, Bella, let me show you what it's like to be taken care of for once in your life."

All of my apprehension evaporates as I look into his eyes. I've seen that there's more to him than he lets most people see. I've seen the kind, loyal man that Esme and Carlisle have assured me is there. He's reassured me that I'm not a conquest. He backed off when I asked him to, yet still managed to make me feel desired without making me feel smothered.

I'm ready.

"I'd love that, Edward."

He looks completely taken aback, and I hate that I've made such a confident, self-assured man doubt himself, but it was necessary. I needed to be sure of his intentions because I vowed to myself three years ago to never be manipulated, used, and discarded by a boy again. The problem, though, is that this is no boy. Edward Cullen is all man.

"Yeah?" His bright green eyes are filled with guarded excitement as they dart back and forth between mine, like he doesn't quite believe me, but is hoping.

"Yeah." I say with conviction and a smile. A full blown smile that I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.

His relieved smile matches mine and it's breathtaking. If I thought Edward Cullen was a beautiful man before, it's nothing compared to the way he looks now.

And, again, it's too much. I have to get out of here. I start cleaning up our lunch, when Edward clears his throat.

"What is your schedule like this weekend?" The very intimidating businessman is back in full force, negotiating a deal.

I look up from where I'm wiping down the coffee table. "I'm off." The thought of spending the weekend with him makes my stomach erupt in butterflies, and I add as an afterthought, "Well, Saturday and Sunday; I still have to work on Friday."

"Okay. Will you give me your phone number? I don't want to give you my business card, and then you get offended by it." He raises one eyebrow in challenge, and, at first I'm a little bugged by his assumption, but then I realize that I would've, indeed, been offended.

Edward Cullen is a quick study.

I like that.

"You make me sound so fickle." I'm being sassy, but I'm not really upset. I'm just teasing him. I shoot him a cheeky smile so that he knows I'm playing with him.

He gives me a deadpan look in response and I can't help but laugh. "I'm not fickle; I'm apprehensive. But, once I've made up my mind, I stick to it."

"Good to know." He says as he walks over and hands me his phone with eyes so intense, my insides melt to mush. He's standing so close to me that I'm completely surrounded by his fresh, woodsy scent. I shakily send myself a text from his fancy gold phone, but don't know of how to save my number in it.

"Uh… I don't know how to work this thing." He wordlessly guides me through the process by pointing out where to go next. Once I hit "save" on his brand new contact, labeled Bunny Blue, I can't help but feel a surge of pride. I'm the one that's nicknamed in his phone. I'm the one that makes him smile the way he is right now. No other woman but me.

Whoa. Where did those thoughts come from? I've never been the possessive type, and I'm not going to start now.

Once Edward disappears back I to the elevator after walking me out, I decide to call Alice and see if she's free to go shopping with me. I know I shouldn't spend the money, but I can't help but want a new outfit for my date.

Thankfully, she's available, and, in less than thirty minutes, I'm in her cute yellow bug, along with Jess.

"Nice digs, Ali."

"I know, right? I waited till I got my bunny color before I bought it. It's perfect isn't it?" She lovingly strokes the dashboard as she agrees. She turns down the radio, before changing the subject.

"Are you going to do the photoshoot?" Her ice blue eyes look up at me through the rear view mirror.

"What photoshoot?"

"Check your email. Please do it with us. It'll be fun!" Jess adds, as she turns over her shoulder to face me.

"Yeah. They're sending us to New York for an appearance and then doing a photoshoot the next day. It's gonna be a blast, plus we'll get paid!"

I'm reading the email as we pull into a parking space outside of the Nordstrom on Michigan Avenue. Six hundred dollars to pose for some photos and make a red carpet appearance? Yes, please. My mood sours as I realize where we are, however.

"You guys, I can't afford to shop here!" Alice's eyes soften as she turns toward me, "Yes you can. It's okay to splurge on yourself every now and again. You've worked so hard and it seems like you really like him. Life is about more than paying off that debt, Bella."

"But I almost have enough to completely pay off Chase. You know how bad that guy creeps me out." She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. "I know, babe. And you will. Next month, not today. Today, you're going to buy yourself a sexy dress with shoes to match. No arguing."

"Yeah, Bell, you only get one first date." Jess chimes in. She does have a point there.

Uneasily, I follow them into the huge department store. It takes about an hour for me to finally loosen up, but, I do eventually find a few things to try on. Once I finally have a my choices, we make our way to the dressing room.

After the third outfit, Ali's third lackluster response, and Jess's third insulting remark, I turn toward the three way mirror and examine the knee length deep brown sweater dress with a flared skirt. I think it looks elegant and classy. "Well, what's wrong with it?" I plead.

"Nothing's wrong with it, per se. It's just not…" Ali trails off without finishing her thought, which frustrates me even more. I'm on the verge of tears when the sales consultant interjects. "This is for a date, correct?" I merely nod, still staring at the brown dress. The more I look at it, the more drab it looks. "Okay. And what kind of message do you want to send? Pardon me if I seem out of line, but you're a young beautiful girl so I'm having a hard time understanding why you're trying to look like a thirty-five year old soccer mom."

I take a deep breath before trying to articulate my thoughts. It's hard, considering that I don't even understand what's going through my head. Instead, I focus on the part of her statement that bothers me the most. "What's wrong with being a thirty-five year old soccer mom?" The sales lady's eyes go big, as if trying to find a way to smooth over her offensive words, but it's actually Jess who interjects. "Nothing. If you actually were one. But you're not. You're a gorgeous twenty-one year old with a bangin' body, and a date with the man of your dreams. He knows how old you are, Bella. He's not expecting anything but you. If he wanted a conservative, old-lady he wouldn't have asked out a baby-faced Playboy Bunny, right?"

The sales girl's eyes practically bug out of her head at that revelation, and I turn to give Jess the nastiest glare I can manage. She just ignores me, though, and continues on with her speech, "So, in response to your question, the message we are trying to convey is classy, but sexy. Very sexy. And elegant, yet, youthful."

"You got it. Give me a few minutes to have someone send some things up." Sales girl is all business now. A girl on a mission. And when she comes back ten minutes later with an armful of clothes, she merely says, "Trust me, you're not the first girl who's come in here looking for an outfit to get her much older man all riled up. I've got you." After zipping up the thigh-high suede boots that go with the first dress and looking at myself from every angle, I realize that the girls are right. He knows what he's getting into. Let's just see if he can handle it.

* * *

Do you think he deserves a chance? Do you think he can handle Bella's date outfit? Do you think the date will go smoothly?

Kisses, Laila xoxo


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the outpouring of love and encouragement. I'm beyond touched by your kindness, and I'm sincerely sorry for disappointing you by not posting a real chapter on Sunday. For that, I'm posting this chapter early.

After a lot of thought and reflection I decided that I write for myself and choose to share it with the wonderful readers that I have. If you don't enjoy what I'm writing, then feel free to exit out. I try to be as accurate as possible while still maintaining the fact that this is FICTION. Nothing will ever be 100% accurate. If you can't look past that fact, then don't continue to read this FICTIONAL story. That being said, I appreciate every review I receive. I love interacting with you and I certainly don't mind the questions one bit. What I do mind, however, is arguing for the sake of arguing.

If you want to see the Pintrest board search: The Bunny Ranch

Let's be friends on Twitter: lailabentz

Thank you to Princess07890 for cleaning up my grammar

I own nothing except a headache from the last week of this ridiculous ficdrama.

* * *

 **~Edward~**

My phone chirps at three o'clock in the afternoon on Friday with a text message. Bella has been texting randomly throughout the last couple of days, and, as useless as I think the practice is, I can't say that I mind it. I will admit, however, that I much preferred our phone call yesterday. She'd called me on her lunch hour, and I have to say, that I was touched by the effort.

I finish the email I'm currently writing and then open the message.

Did you know that your stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus every two weeks or it will digest itself?

BTW, thank you for the peonies; they're beautiful.

~Bella

I immediately dial my assistant. "What does BTW mean?"

She sounds completely confused as she answers, "Excuse me, sir?"

I roll my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as I clearly state the question again, "B.T.W. What does that mean?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but in what context are you asking? It can mean a lot of things."

"Just come here." I don't mean to sound like a total dick, but, Christ, I just need a simple fucking question answered. How hard is that?

Joyce knocks once before opening the door and stepping inside, timidly approaching my desk. Once she's close enough, I thrust my phone at her. Her gaze flickers from my face to the phone and back again before a smirk lifts the corner of her mouth.

I don't have time for this shit.

My huff of annoyance and raised eyebrow is enough to wipe the grin right off her face. "In this context, it means 'By the way'."

"Oh. Thank you. That'll be all."

The sly smirk is back in place as she turns to leave my office. I don't think twice about it as I type my reply.

That's disgusting, Bunny Blue, but I'm glad you like the flowers. I'll see you tonight.

~Edward

Her response is quick, but I don't understand it at all. I'm loathe to call Joyce in again, but I'd rather ask her than Carlisle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you please come back?" I try to be a little nicer because I'm well aware that what I'm asking is outside of her job description.

"Sir?" is all she says as she enters my office.

"What are those boxes?"

"Oh! She sent an emoticon, but you don't have the app so it shows up like a box."

"What app?" This is all kind of ridiculous, and it's honestly starting to annoy me.

She reaches for my phone, "May I?"

I don't have any choice but to hand it over if I want to decipher what the fuck Bella is trying to say. I don't understand all of this. Why not just say what you want to say?

Joyce fiddles with my phone for a couple of minutes and then hands it back. "There you go."

She comes around to my side of the desk before I get a chance to look at what Bella said and continues, "If you want to send one back or add one to a normal text you press here. See? Now a list of emojis will pop up, and you can scroll through and choose whatever you like."

There are faces, flowers, a snowman, and even a hamburger. Why would anyone want to send a toilet picture in a text? Fucking ridiculous.

I merely thank a smiling Joyce as I continue to scroll through the creepy emoticons, and she leaves without another word.

As pointless as I think all of this is, I can't help but smile when I see the three little creepy faces blowing a heart shaped kisses that Bella sent me.

It's nearly seven o'clock when we finally get off of the conference call with Victoria from Twilight Telecommunications, and my nerves are frazzled. Carlisle doesn't look any better off than me, and, to be honest, neither does Eleazar.

"You going to the club with us?" Carlisle asks Eleazar, knowing very well that he'll decline, considering that it's one of Carmen's nights off.

"Nah, man. I'm gonna enjoy a night in with my old lady. You guys are becoming real regulars again, eh?"

Carlisle snickers as he answers with a wicked grin, "You know I'm always down to watch Esme work that bunny tail. And this one," He points his thumb at me, "has his eye on the lovely Isabella."

"Oh, yeah. Chuck E. Cheese. How's that going?"

"We're going out tomorrow. What the fuck is Chuck E. Cheese?"

"How'd you get her to agree to that? Last I saw, she was still resisting. And Chuck E. Cheese is a kid's pizza joint, and Isabella's new nickname. Fitting, isn't it? Considering that she's an infant compared to you" Eleazar quickly answers a text before looking back at me.

"She brought him lunch the other day. Completely caught him by surprise. That one's a firecracker, I tell you." Carlisle is entirely too interested in my love life, I swear.

"Fuck you both." Is my brilliant response.

Saturday morning, I take my time with my daily workout, and then manage to get a few hours of work in. The Twilight acquisition has been a nightmare, to say the least. And, if I thought dealing with Victoria Laurent was bad, James Miller, her financial advisor, is even worse. Incompetent doesn't even begin to cover it.

This entire situation is what happens when a suave businessman leaves his struggling business to a spoiled, immature daughter. She can't seem to understand the fact that Cullen Enterprises is her only hope at this point. I just want to scream "fucking take the money and walk away", but I refrain.

She keeps trying to get us to back her financially, but that's not how it works. I'll buy it from her, but I'll never partner with her, or anyone else for that matter. Playboy was our one and only exception.

Ever.

And that's not even the best part. There's another person with inherited interest in the company, but we can't seem to figure out who they are, much less get the necessary affidavits from them. I don't see why any of these people continue to hold on to this money sucking, worthless company. It's mind boggling to me.

Once I finish updating the notes in the Twilight file, I call Celeste to confirm my eight o'clock reservation for a private table on the second floor dinning room.

Around six o'clock, I find myself standing in my closet staring at my clothes, wondering when I turned into a fucking woman. Yes, I dress well and I obviously take pride in my appearance, but never have I put so much consideration into what to wear on a goddamn date. This is fucking ridiculous. In the end, I decide to just be myself and dress as I normally would. It's not like she's expecting me to show up dressed like some fucking frat boy for Christ's sake.

I choose a pair of dark jeans, a white button up under a charcoal cardigan, and top it off with a navy blazer. Brown leather tie up boots and my gold Rolex finish it off. I put a little effort into my hair, but not nearly as much as I do for work and am momentarily distracted by the gray creeping into my temples. It seems to be getting more noticeable each fucking day. I leave the day old beard that's shadowed in because I can't stand to look in the mirror another second.

What the fuck am I doing?

Fucking Chuck E. Cheese.

Oh well. If I'm going to hell, I might as well do it thouroughly.

I look in the fridge to find the peonies I picked up earlier. I knew the minute I left them on the counter that Zafrina, my housekeeper, would move them. She thinks putting flowers in the refrigerator keeps them fresher or something. I don't fucking know, nor do I care. Whatever keeps my most trusted employee happy, I'll do it.

I chose peonies because I sent Bella the same flowers yesterday and I figured she could use some for her apartment. She seemed to like them.

Speaking of her apartment, I double check the GPS against the address she texted to me as I pull up in front of the red brick building to make sure I'm in the right spot. This neighborhood is not safe, and I doubt there's any kind of security for the building. That's very concerning to me. I know that I'm not her father, and she's made her independence very clear to me, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Grabbing the flowers from the passenger seat of my Aston Martin, I make my way to her apartment. Once I find it, I knock firmly on her door. I'm a little early, so I won't be surprised if I have to wait. Women take forever to get ready, and, even when they don't, they're still never on time.

Imagine my surprise when Isabella opens the door right away, looking like sin. Holy mother of God, she looks amazing. She's wearing a very short, body-hugging, long sleeve black dress with a high neck, and the sexiest thigh-high black boots I've ever seen.

"Edward."

My name is a sigh on her lips as I wordlessly hand her the flowers, and I can only hope that she's even half as enamored with me as I am with her right now. "Thank you, they're beautiful." She gives me a full blown dimpled smile and I swear my heart stutters. "Please come in while I grab my coat, and put these in some water."

"Wow."

The word slips out of my mouth before my brain even registers what I see when she turns around.

The dress is open from the turtleneck collar all the way down past those tiny dimples above her ass, leaving her entire back exposed. It's such a strong contradiction from how conservative the front of the dress is, that it makes it even sexier somehow. I want nothing more in this moment than to touch that perfect, creamy skin.

I let my gaze finish taking in the back of the dress, and note how it snugly fits over her perfectly round ass, and the few inches of bare thigh that are exposed all the way down to the very high heels of her boots.

Damn.

My pants are suddenly uncomfortably tight as I appreciate the view.

"Like what you see?"

Her eyes are filled with longing and mirth, and those deep red lips curl up into a satisfied smirk as she sets the freshly filled vase on her counter. She knows exactly what she's doing to me, little minx.

"You look incredible, Isabella. I'm a very lucky man."

She slips on her black wool coat and I'm momentarily saddened about the loss of all that skin as she ties the belt around her tiny waist.

"Thank you, Edward. You look very handsome yourself. You're not the only lucky one around here."

Her compliment makes me smile, and I lead her out of the building down to my car. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes go wide as I help her into the plush leather of the passenger seat.

It's not a terribly long drive to the restaurant, but it's nice that Isabella feels comfortable enough to talk to me.

"I was sad that I didn't get to be your Bunny last night. Maggie is nice, though, so you got a good one." I'm amused when I detect a slight hint of jealousy in her voice.

"She was very efficient." I don't know what else to say to her statement.

"She has a crush on you." She sounds almost petulant as she rolls her eyes.

"Is that so?" Last night's Bunny was fine, but definitely not my type. My type is sitting right here in the car with me.

"Yes." Her eyes flash toward me before focusing right back outside the window. She's being a brat, but I'll give her a pass on this one.

"Unfortunately for her, I prefer brunettes." This is a recent development, however, because, honestly, Isabella is the first brunette I've ever dated.

"Good."

And there are the dimples I adore. God, she's beautiful. Breathtaking, even when she smiles at me like that.

I pull up to the valet, and rush over as he helps Isabella out of the car. He smiles politely as she thanks him and I slip him a nice tip.

"Oh, wow," Is all she says as we step off of the elevator onto to the second floor dining room.

The second floor dining room of Celeste is fantastic. It's decorated in a nineteen twenties art deco style with beiges, creams, and dark wood and crystal accents. It's romantic, interesting, and very exclusive, so I thought it would be a perfect place for a first date. A first of many, I hope. After having such a rough start in life, I want Isabella to experience the finer things in life, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I want her to experience them with me.

The hostess greets us with a warm smile and shows us to our private table, and, when the waiter comes, I immediately have him start us with a bottle of Cristal. I know that Isabella isn't going to be one to want to be drowned by my wealth, but, judging by the way she looks around appreciatively, I think she just may enjoy being showered in it every now and again.

She smiles widely as she takes her first sip. "Oh, my goodness. This is good." Her eyes shine in the dim lighting before she closes them to savor another full sip. It's so refreshing to see a woman fully enjoy what many others before her have grossly taken for granted.

And a woman she is.

I was afraid that I might feel like I was out with a little girl tonight, especially after Eleazar's teasing, but I think the fact that Isabella has been on her own from a very young age has lent her a maturity I've not seen in many of the older women that I've dated in the past. Yes she's had her bratty moments, but she still feels like my equal in every way that matters. Besides, every woman I've ever dated has acted bratty at times, even worse if we're being honest. It's reassuring. She's able to see past my age and my vast wealth to see the man. I can't help but be drawn to that. Add that to the fact that she is absolutely gorgeous, and she's practically perfect in my opinion. She's sexy and confident, and she knows what she wants in life. She's self-assured, and, most of all, she has self-respect. What man in their right mind wouldn't want to be a part of her life?

The veal and Cristal are fantastic, as is the service. I've always enjoyed dining here, so it's nice to see Bella enjoy it as much as I do. We'll definitely have to come again.

"What made you choose business instead of law, Edward? You mentioned that your father practices law, as does Carlisle, so I'm curious why you'd deviate from what seems to be a family tradition?"

"To be honest, my intention was to follow in my father's footsteps, but I took an international business class as an elective course my sophomore year and it changed everything. I was fascinated by it, and, by the end of that semester, I had a meeting with my advisor and switched my program. I ended up having to take Winter Sessions as well as summer classes, but I managed to finish on time, even with a double major, so it was worth the extra work."

"And your parents were supportive?" The genuine interest in her expression is so touching. She's not asking how much money I make, or anything of that nature. It's encouraging to say the least.

"Very much so. Carlisle and I are blessed to have such wonderful, supportive parents."

There's a sadness that passes over her delicate features, but it's gone as quickly as it came. "That's so nice to hear. It must be amazing to grow up in a home like that."

"You weren't close to your folks?" I don't see how anyone couldn't want to be close to this incredible woman.

"Um, not really no. My father wasn't around much, and my mother… well, I guess you could say that I spent more time with the nannies than with her. She wasn't mean or abusive in any way, just uninterested, I guess." She shrugs her slender shoulder as she pushes the remaining asparagus around her plate. I'm at a loss, and immediately regret making the conversation awkward, when she sets get fork down and looks up at me with those deep brown eyes.

"I vow to be a different kind of parent. I want my children to know that they are wanted, and that they are loved every minute of every day. I never want them to feel like a burden. Ever."

My heart breaks for her in that moment and as wrong as it feels, I despise her parents in this moment. "You're a treasure, Isabella, not a burden."

"And you're a sweet-talker." She teases with a glint in her eye.

It amazes me how quickly she's able to bounce back. So, with a wink, I respond, "Only to you, sweet girl."

Her answering smile is breathtaking.

I settle our tab, and then lead her out of the restaurant toward the second portion of our date. It's a ways down the street, but I'm thankful that, although it's cold, it's not bitterly cold out tonight. I don't want her to freeze in her tiny dress, even with her long wool coat.

As we head down the street, I'm startled as she slips her hand into mine, entwining our fingers together. My first instinct is to pull away, but I resist. I've never been one for hand holding, as I've always found it a bit juvenile and completely unnecessary, but, for some reason, it feels kind of right. I'm definitely not a fan of public displays of affection, as I feel there's an appropriate time and place for all of that, but I can't deny the surge of pride and possessiveness I feel right now. I know that I'm a public figure and it's not uncommon for me to get papped, but, in this moment, I can't find it in myself to care.

Once we get to the street vendor, I give him my name for the reservation, and he leads us over to the black horse-drawn carriage. I help Bella get in, and then slip into the seat beside her. She picks up the heavy tartan wool blanket from the floor of the carriage and settles it across both of our laps, and snuggles in under my arm as the carriage pulls away from the curb.

The streets are lined with trees lit up with twinkling white lights. It's actually a very romantic setting.

"Wow, Edward. This is incredible. I've never experienced anything like this. Thank you for putting so much effort into tonight." She sighs contentedly, toying with one of the buttons on my cardigan.

"You're very welcome, Isabella. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

"You're going to spoil me." Her voice is soft, and almost sounds hopeful.

"That's the plan." My voice is full of conviction, conveying the sincerity of my words. I do plan to spoil this girl. As much as she will allow me to, for as long as she'll allow me to.

She looks up at me with those beautiful brown eyes, and I can't help the magnetism in which I'm drawn to her. My gaze falls to her pouty red lips, and then darts back to her eyes looking for any indication that it's all right to kiss her.

I need to kiss her.

She tilts her face up to me, and it's all the invitation I need. My hand reaches up to cup the side of her face, and I allow my thumb to caress the apple of her cheek as she leans into my touch. I slide my hand into her soft, silky hair and lean toward her until our noses are brushing each other. A little puff of her warm breath warms my lips as she fists my sweater in her small hand, and shifts ever so slightly closer to me.

I lightly brush my lips against hers, just a whisper of a kiss. Her lips are pillow soft, and so very warm. A stark contrast to the crisp winter air. I breathe her in as I press my lips against hers again, more firmly this time, taking my time to savor the sensation.

Electricity seems to buzz around us, the air charged with attraction, and something more. She makes a little sound in the back of her throat, as she pushes herself even more firmly into me.

At this point, she's nearly crawled into my lap. Not that I mind one bit.

I slide my hand down until I'm gripping her jaw, firmly taking control of the kiss back, and tilt her head to the side, giving me full access to her sweet mouth.

She moans softly when I oh so slowly push my tongue into her warm, wet mouth. Her hand flies to my hair, fishing the strands, and I tighten my hold on her jaw as I force the kiss to stay long, deep, and agonizingly slow.

This is, by far, the best kiss of my life.

Once I've thoroughly claimed her mouth, I place one more soft, tender kiss to her lips, and pull back to look at her.

Her still parted lips are swollen, her hair is a little tousled, and her eyes are still closed.

She's never looked more beautiful.

"Wow." Are her only words as she opens those gorgeous eyes to me.

"Wow, indeed," Is the only answer I can manage.

It isn't long until the carriage comes to a stop, and our ride is over. She's quiet on the way home, and, if she hadn't immediately reached for my hand as we walked back to the restaurant, I might be worried that I did something wrong.

Once we pull up in front of her building, I immediately get out to help her from the car. Once again, she twines her fingers with mine as I lead her to her door.

"Thank you for spending the evening with me, Isabella. I had a wonderful time." I reach up to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear as I say this, because I just can't imagine being without her touch.

I lean down to place a soft kiss on her lips, and am startled when she throws her arms around my neck, toying with the hair at the base of my neck. She's so tiny compared to me.

I let her kiss me, but then pull back to rest my forehead on hers. She takes a deep breath, and then whispers, "Stay." It's a plea and a request, and it kills me to say no. I reach up, and unwind her arms from around my neck to kiss each hand.

"Isabella, I'm not willing to do casual with you, and, as you've pointed out before, I don't share well. I want to pursue a serious relationship with you, but I don't want to scare you off. I'm willing to move at your pace, but I need you to be fully committed to me before you ever invite me in again. Because, when I do come in, I'm not leaving. Do you understand what I'm saying, Bunny Blue?"

I kiss her fingertips again to ease the sting of my rejection, but I just can't. I can't spend the night with her only to end up losing her. I'm far too invested.

As I turn to walk away, I feel her fingers grip my belt loop and tug. I let her pull me back to her and look down into her eyes, my own full of questions.

One side of her full lips curls up into a sexy smile, and her eyes are clear and determined as she demands,

"Stay."

* * *

Who volunteers to give Edward texting lessons? What did you think of their date? Do you think he'll stay? _Should_ he stay?

As always, I love to hear your thoughts and theories.

Laila xxoo


	8. Chapter 8

Well hi there! Again, I'd love to thank you for the outpouring of love and support. Your kind words mean the world to me. My intention was to just replace the AN and move all chapters up a level, but I didn't want you to miss an update. Any advice?

If you'd like to see visuals check out the Pintrest board. Just search: The Bunny Ranch

Does anyone out there make banners? I'd really love one for these two.

Let's be friends on Twitter and Facebook! I love interacting with you guys. lailabentz and Laila Bentz

Thank you very much to my beta Princess07890 for making me sound smarter than I am. Also, check out her stories if you haven't yet.

Let's see if he stayed, shall we...

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

I already told Edward that once I make up my mind about something, I stick to it. I made up my mind about him when I accepted this date.

I'm his for the taking.

"Stay."

I pull on his belt loop with one hand, and snake my free arm around his waist, effectively pressing myself against him.

My head is nearly tilted all the way back in order to look up at him. Even in my four-inch heels, the top of my head barely reaches his chin. He's so big. Tall and broad, with thick muscled arms and legs. And his hands. Ugh. His large hands completely engulf mine. He's just so manly. It's a sharp contrast to the guys I've dated in the past. I like it.

He hesitates, indecision weighing heavily in his eyes.

"Make me yours, Edward. Please don't make me beg."

I get a small smirk from him out of that comment, and I can see when his eyes steel with resolve.

Keeping my fingers firmly gripping his belt loop, I half turn to unlock my door. I refuse to let him get away. I do feel much more secure when I feel his arm snake around my waist, and only then do I feel sure enough to let go of him, and open the door.

I lock the door behind me, and find Edward removing his coat when I turn around. I follow suit, draping my own over the back of the chair in my small living room. I'm suddenly nervous. Really nervous.

"Can I get you a drink?" I ask as I reach down to unzip and remove my boots. I kick off the death traps and head straight for the tiny kitchen. Edward follows, removing his blazer, and hanging it on the back of the barstool before sitting on it. His eyes are intense as they follow me to the refrigerator, where I grab two bottles of water.

He takes the bottle I offer, but immediately sets it down on the counter as he reaches for me, wrapping his arm around me, and pulling me to settle between his legs. I take a long gulp of water when I feel his hand start exploring the naked skin of my back, and then I begin,

"It's been a long time for me. Years. I've been tested. Twice. And I religiously take the Depo shot, so I'm covered."

 _Way to make it awkward, Bella._

God, I can't think when he's kissing my jaw, and his hand is sliding down to cup my butt. Thankfully, he just chuckles.

"Good to know. It's been awhile for me, as well, Bunny Blue. Not quite years, but awhile. I test every six months, and I always wear a condom."

Both of his hands are now gripping my thighs and his tongue is making its way down my jaw, but I'm stuck on what he's said and I pull my neck away from his mouth.

"What's awhile?"

He groans as he leans back in the chair. "What?"

His grumpiness is so damn hot.

"How long is a while? Who was it? When was the last time you talked to her?"

"Really, Isabella? You want to know these things?"

"Yes."

He immediately let's go of one of my thighs and grips his hair. "Fine. About five months ago, give or take, her name is Chelsea, and I talked to her just after Christmas. We had drinks but didn't fuck. Is that all you want to know?"

His annoyance is only turning me on.

"How old is she? Is she pretty? Are you still attracted to her? What does she look like?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

I slide my arms around his neck, and press myself closer to him. "No."

"She's thirty-five, I think. I don't date ugly women. She's tall and blonde, and she doesn't ask so many fucking questions."

"Are you still attracted to her?"

"That depends on whether or not you're going to keep asking so many questions."

"Hey!" I exclaim as I lightly smack his chest, and I can't help but laugh when he does. He catches my hand, and holds it against his heart as I toy with the hair at the base of his neck. It's so soft. We enjoy our moment before his eyes turn serious.

"I'm thirty-eight years old, Isabella. I've been with a lot of women. I've been married, for Christ's sake. But none of that matters because I'm here with you. You're all I want. I told you, I'm serious about you. I want more with you."

And, with that simple declaration, all of my insecurities melt away. I can only kiss him in response. I can't voice it yet, but I want it all with him. I know it may seem fast, but it really isn't. I made this incredible man chase me for weeks. I made him work so hard for my attention when I knew deep down in my heart he'd get it anyway. It's time to stop playing games, woman up and either commit myself or walk away, and I just can't imagine ever walking away from him. So this is it. I tangle my fingers into his hair, and deepen the kiss, reveling in the fact that he's letting me control it.

His hands firmly grip the back of my thighs as he stands, and he smoothly wraps my legs around him, never breaking the kiss, as he heads toward the short hallway. There are only two doors, and I point to the bedroom.

The bed is only a double, and I immediately feel bad because there's no way he's not going to hang off of it. I guess we won't be spending many nights here; he's just too tall. We'll make it work for tonight though.

He sets me down in front of the bed, and kisses me hungrily. I've never been with such a dominant man before, and I was honestly a bit apprehensive, thinking I might not like it, but, boy was I wrong. His dominance turns me on like no other.

I reach for the buttons on his cardigan and tug it down his arms before going back for the buttons on his shirt. When I finally get the last button undone, and slide the fabric over his shoulders, I break away from his mouth, taking a moment to admire his body.

Holy shit, he is ripped. I was expecting him to be a little soft in the middle because he's older but no. He's solid, well defined, and I can't keep my hands off of him. I reach out to lightly touch his sculpted abs letting, my fingers trace along each of the ridges.

I flatten my palms and run them up his torso, over his sculpted pecs, and across his broad shoulders. It's at this point, when I let my fingers trail down his back, that he reaches for the hem of my dress.

I lift my arms above my head in invitation, and he wastes no time in pulling the garment over my head before tossing it to the floor. I'm left wearing only a very tiny pair of black lace panties.

When I reach for his belt, he catches my hands, and pulls them away. "Let me look at you."

He lets go of my hands, and they fall limply to my sides. My heart hammers in my chest as his hooded gaze takes in my body from head to toe.

He caresses the side of my face, brushing his thumb across my lower lip before sliding his hand down my neck, gently grazing the side of my breast, and letting his fingers trail down the side of my torso. He grips the minuscule strap of my panties and tugs gently, letting it snap back against my skin while he flicks his gaze up to my eyes with a devilish half grin.

"Sexy."

His voice is so deep and rough in the quiet room that it causes a fresh wave of arousal to dampen my panties. My chest is heaving and my breath is nearly coming in pants from his teasing touches. I desperately want to push him down, and crawl on top of him, but I know better. I don't need to be told that I'm not the one in charge here.

He snakes his hand around my waist, and groans as he gently palms my backside. He deftly undoes his belt and jeans with his free hand, and steps out of them as he turns us so that he can sit on the edge of the bed.

Even sitting, I'm barely taller than him, and he wastes no more time as he pulls me to him to kiss my neck.

"You're exquisite." He mumbles against my collarbone as he trails his mouth down to my breast. He reaches up, taking the other one into his palm as he closes his lips around my nipple, and it's all I can do not to cry out from the sensation overload.

I do let my head fall back, and lift my knee to straddle him. My knee barely touches the bed when he grabs the back of my other thigh to help, and I can't help but shift my hips against him when his very impressive bulge comes into contact with my lady bits.

"Fuck."

He groans out as I roll my hips, seeking whatever friction I can find. He uses the hand currently on my butt to grind me even harder against him as he pushes up into me, and I have to admit that I'm impressed when he lays back, and deftly turns us over so that I'm beneath him in one fell swoop.

I instinctively wrap my legs around his hips, and he reaches down to grip my thigh as he leans in to devour my mouth. I've never been kissed so deeply and so thoroughly that it takes my breath away.

I turn away, gasping for air, and he sits back on his haunches, immediately reaching for the strings of my panties. He pulls them down gently, and then re-parts my legs, holding them open wide as he takes in the sight of me.

He's just so confident.

It's hard not to feel embarrassed by the way he's looking at me, but as soon as he drags one long finger through my dripping folds, and brings it to his mouth, I'm done for. I moan loudly, begging for some kind of relief.

"Edward, please."

Thankfully, he takes mercy on me and doesn't waste another minute. He uses his thumbs to spread me open as he leans down and places a wet, open mouthed kiss on my tender, exposed flesh. His tongue circles once, twice, three times around my clit before wiggling its way inside, and he continues this torturous pattern until my voice is raw from begging him to let me come.

When he's finally had enough, he slides two fingers inside of me, curling them upward and firmly stroking while he continues his assault on my engorged clit. Not even a full minute passes before it feels like I shatter into a million glorious pieces.

I thought I'd had orgasms before, but nothing's ever felt like that.

Not even close.

I still feel like I'm floating back to Earth when I feel him bare, pressing against my entrance. He leans his forehead against the side of my face and asks, "Condom?"

I shake my head in the negative and wrap my leg around his thigh, urging him to press forward. I want to feel him bare. I want to feel all of him.

He again grips my thigh, and slowly presses into me at the same time as he presses his tongue into my mouth. I moan into the kiss, feeling completely filled by him. He tightens his grip on my thigh, and presses even further than I thought possible.

"Oh." My voice is a breathy cry, and I can't help arching my back while tightening my arms and legs around him. Anything to get closer to him.

He rolls over, nearly toppling off the bed, but manages to situate us so that I'm sitting astride him. It's so deep this way, almost on the verge of pain. The best kind of pain. I place my hands flat on his chest, and let my head fall forward, creating a curtain around us with my hair.

His hands splayed on my bottom urge me to move, so I start swiveling my hips as he pushes up into me.

It feels so good. I can't think.

I force my eyes open because I just have to see the beautiful man beneath me. Those eyes, those incredibly intense eyes are trained on me like I'm the most important thing in his world.

He reaches up to cup my cheek, and I lean my face into his hand as I increase my pace, riding him harder and faster by the second. My moans and his grunts fill the quiet room, surrounding us with the sounds of passion. I feel the tension building, and I chase the feeling with abandon until it snaps, and I'm falling with a silent scream. It isn't a moment later that Edward releases a long, guttural groan.

I collapse onto his chest, panting, and it takes several minutes before I'm able to catch my breath.

Edward kisses me thoroughly before peppering soft kisses to my temple and forehead, while gently brushing his fingers along my spine, and eventually settling on my backside.

He tucks the blankets around us, and it isn't long before my completely satisfied body succumbs to sleep.

Sunday morning, I wake up before Edward, and I take a moment to admire the gorgeous man in my bed.

My man.

I brush my fingers softly through his hair, careful not to disturb him. It's so soft, even the grays are soft and silky. I let my gaze wander across his handsome face. There are a few grays intermixed in his beard as well. Not a ton, just enough to make him look distinguished. I love it.

My eyes wander down the length of his strong, powerful body, and I shiver at the memories of the pleasure I got from it, but I can't help but smile at the sight of his feet hanging off the end of my bed.

He can't be comfortable.

I should feel bad, but I don't.

Shaking my head, I pick up his white button down shirt on the way to the bathroom and slip it on. It's so big that I have to roll up the sleeves, and it almost reaches my knees, but I don't care. I brush my teeth, and throw my hair up in a bun on top of my head before leaving a new, wrapped toothbrush on the counter before heading to the kitchen to start coffee.

I'm frying bacon at the stove when I feel Edward come up behind me.

"I like this." His minty fresh breath fans across my face when he places a kiss to my cheek, and tugs at the hem of his shirt.

I turn toward him, and pucker my lips, asking for a real kiss, to which he easily complies.

"Smells good. I could definitely get used to waking up to this." He smiles at me as he pours himself a cup of coffee. Black, of course.

I look over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. He's wearing only his jeans with the top button undone. Shirtless Edward is a sight to behold, but shirtless Edward with bedhead should be downright illegal. If I wasn't as sore as I am, I'd jump him right here, right now.

My God that man is sex personified. And he's all mine.

A slow smile spreads across my face as I plate the bacon, and pull the syrup out of the microwave. His hand slides up the back of my thigh to squeeze my butt when I lean down to kiss him after I set his plate in front of him.

"Thank you, Baby. This looks fantastic."

The butterflies in my stomach go wild at the term of endearment, but I can't help sassing back. "I'm no baby." I tease jutting my boobs out seductively and toying with the collar of the shirt to give him a peek.

He plays along by leering at me, before challenging, "You're wrong."

"How so?" I ask, annoyed at how quickly he can look away from my awesome boobs.

"You're my baby." He says, dismissively shrugging his shoulder.

"Says who?" I argue simply because I can. I know Edward only tolerates it because it's me, and I'll admit that I love to push his buttons.

"Says me." And there's that hint of annoyance I knew was coming. I honestly have to fight the smile that's trying to break through.

"And everyone always does exactly what you say?" I wonder how much farther I can push him.

"Yes." He sits back in the chair, crossing his muscled arms across his chest. Full intensity in those green eyes.

"Not me." The fight is gone out of me, but I can't help one last argument.

"So I've seen." He agrees with a deadpan look, making me laugh. He then points his fork at me before adding, "But you're still my baby."

I just blow him a kiss in response, because we both know I am. I'm satisfied when he lifts his eyebrow at me but returns to his pancakes like nothing happened.

"Did you know that, in Sweden, you can order Blodplättar, which are pancakes made of pork blood?" I remember this fact from Aunt Bess's Trivial Pursuit game.

Edward looks appalled as he looks up at me, but recovers quickly adding a little trivia of his own, "Did you know that Mrs. Butterworth's first name is actually Joy?"

"No way! How do you know that?"

"I'm a businessman. It's my job to know that." There's a teasing glint to his eyes that makes me smile. I'd have never thought that the massive jerk I met my first night in the club could ever be sitting here in my kitchen teasing and sharing trivia with me.

Oh how things change.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" He asks while patting his belly.

"I'm going to take advantage of my day off, and get my laundry and grocery shopping done. What about you?"

"Work, Bunny Blue, always work." He gets up to clear the table, and the insecurity creeps up.

"Will I see you this week?" I hate how needy I sound.

"Of course, Baby. You're not getting rid of me now. Come have lunch with me tomorrow."

"Okay." With that, my insecurities are squashed.

Edward leaves about an hour later, after one more steamy make out session, and, it's although it's sad to see him go, it's also nice to have the afternoon to myself.

I spend the majority of my time down in the laundry room, reading the latest book in my vampire series and then head off to Jewel-Osco to stock up my kitchen, of course with plenty of mac 'n cheese.

Star Wars this time.

By the time I arrive at The Bunny Ranch on Tuesday, the girls are dying to know how my date went. I tell them the PG version, and try not to sound like I'm bragging too much. It's hard, though, because I'm really excited about it. It was honestly the best date I've ever been on. And Edward and I grow closer every day.

I'm admittedly a little bit disappointed to see that Edward, Carlisle, and Eleazar get placed in Maggie's section, especially because I know she has a thing for him. I'm able to go by and check on them a couple of times, and I touch him every chance I get, but I still watch Maggie like a hawk.

"Good evening, I'm your Bunny Isabella. May I see your Playboy keys?" The dark haired man pulls out his wallet, and hands me the sleek black card. "He's with me." He adds with a wink. "Of course, Mr. Monroe. What will you be drinking this evening?"

"You look a little young to be working here, sweetheart." He licks his lips, and exaggerates raking his gaze down my body.

I smile politely as I respond, "I assure you, Mr. Monroe, that I am of appropriate age to hold a serving license. Now, what can I bring you to drink?"

"It's okay, sweet thing, I like 'em young." He winks at me again before adding, "I'll have an apple martini, but don't garnish it. I don't want the others to know it's apple. And my friend will have a Jim Beam, on the rocks."

It takes everything inside me not to laugh. "Of course, Mr. Monroe."

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of men who drink cocktails, but I've never encountered one to order a straight up frou-frou drink. Especially one who blatantly came on to me.

I feel like telling him to give it up because I only date men who drink like men. But it would be pointless to piss him off. I need the tips.

Mr. Monroe flirts to the point of getting on my nerves for the better part of two hours before he finally bites the bullet and asks me out. I knew it was coming, but it's still a bit nerve-racking, because it's the first time since I gave myself to Edward.

"Hey, sweet cheeks, whaddaya say I send a car for you after your shift, and we finish what we started? I think you and me could have a real good time."

"Oh. Thank you for the offer, Mr. Monroe, it's very kind of you; however, it's not a possibility." My gaze drifts to the back of Edward's head that is now slightly turned in our direction.

Stalker.

"Why? You got a boyfriend or something?" Mr. Monroe looks equal parts annoyed and incredulous. Is it really that hard to believe that I gave a boyfriend? Jeez. I mean, sure, I don't really know if Edward is my actual boyfriend, because he never said, but it seems like it. I guess we're about to find out, because he's listening in on this conversation.

"Yes, sir, I do." Thankfully, Edward smiles at my answer, but quickly hides it behind his glass of scotch as he turns his attention back to Carlisle.

"Well that's a pity. We coulda had a real good time. Is there a single Bunny around here? Could you send one over?" I feel like telling him that The Playboy Club isn't that type of establishment, but I simply laugh it off and bring him his tab.

He's nice enough as he closes out, and still leaves me a decent tip.

Boy did I earn that one.

When I stop by Edward's table on my way to my break, he can't help but tease me.

"You have a boyfriend, do you?" The corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

"Shut up. I didn't know what to say." I expect the insecurities to creep in, but the smile on his face keeps them at bay.

"Oh, okay. I was concerned that I was somehow seventeen again, and had forgotten to ask you to go steady." His chuckle is smooth and deep, and, as much as I want to throttle him, I love that he's so carefree right now.

"Like I'd say yes." I tease back, rolling my eyes.

He just laughs as I make to move past him. He stops me dead in my tracks, though. "Can I send a car for you tonight, Bunny Blue? It's been two nights since I've slept next to my girlfriend. Two nights too many."

My first instinct is to say no, but I can't find it in me to do so. Especially after he's called me his girlfriend. I have a feeling that is completely for my benefit, and I have to admit how much I appreciate it. The intensity is back in his eyes, and all I can do is nod, because, if I'm being honest, his bed is exactly where I want to be tonight.

* * *

What do you think of her logic on asking him to stay? Do you think he's earned it? What do you think of Edward calling her his girlfriend, purely for her benefit?

As always, I love to hear your thoughts and theories. I literally cannot wait to see what you think of this chapter. It's been awhile since I've written a lemon, and even longer since I tried to not let it get crude .It's just not in this Bella's personality, now Edward on the other hand...

Smooches,

Laila Xx


	9. Chapter 9

Hello! As always, I appreciate every single one of you who continues to read and support me and this story. I can't even begin to express how happy I am to back as an active member of the fandom.

Check out the Pintrest board! Search: The Bunny Ranch

Lets be friends on Twitter and Facebook! lailabentz and Laila Bentz

Thank you so very much to my beta, princess07890 for making me sound smarter than I am.

And a special shoutout to tawelephant for inspiring the scene between Edward and James. I hope I did your vision justice!

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Edward~**

When I get home from the club, I read through the Twilight file again. I know there's something that I'm missing, and it's pissing me off that I can't figure out what it is. Thankfully, I have a couple of weeks until I have to meet with Miller and Victoria again.

I take off my reading glasses, and rub my eyes before heading downstairs for a glass of water. It's nearly two in the morning and I know that Bella will be here soon.

She seemed so relieved when I called her my girlfriend. I don't understand it. That term is so juvenile. Honestly, I think the same thing for significant other, lover, or anything else you can think of. Why do women feel the need to label everything? Like a label is going to keep a man faithful or committed. He either is or he isn't. No label on earth is going to change that.

Whatever. If she wants to be called my girlfriend, then, by all means, she can wear that label. At the end of the day, she's mine, and I'm completely committed to her. That's really all that matters to me. And I'll do whatever it takes day in and day out to ensure that it stays that way.

She's so mature for her age in many ways that I sometimes forget how young she really is. The way she carries herself, the way she makes decisions, the way she stands up for and respects herself is really something special. But, I saw another side of her the night we made love. I saw a beautiful confident woman, yet she had an insecurity so deep it made me wonder what put it there.

I believe that part of it is simply lack of experience, but it may also be bad experience. She's knows she's sexy. She knows she's desired. She feeds off of her appeal. The problem is that she doesn't really know what to do with it once you get down to it. I can't say that I mind teaching her to embrace her sexual prowess in the bedroom.

Bella exudes confidence outside of intimate situations; she's a master at keeping people away. She's a master at keeping her composure, and demanding respect. But something tells me that, as much as she wants to be "all in" with me, actually _letting_ me in might be the real challenge.

She's lost so much. I can't blame her for the challenges we'll likely face. She's more than worth it. My heart aches for the little girl who lost everything, and I want, more than anything, to give whatever I can right back to her.

Even if it's simply security. Security that I won't leave, no matter how annoying her little bouts of insecurity are. Because, once she realizes that she can truly count on me, those insecurities will fade.

I rinse my glass, and then put it in the sink. Looking through the junk drawer, I find a notepad, and scribble a note to leave on the foyer table. I don't want Bella to feel awkward coming up to my bedroom, but I don't necessarily want to wait up in the kitchen either.

It's about two-fifteen, and I expect her at any moment, so I leave the note on the accent table and then head up to bed. Our relationship might seem fast to some, but, to me, it seems like it took an eternity to get to this point. I've never met a woman who made me work so hard to win her over.

I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, and am only stirred awake when I feel Bella slide in next to me, and cuddle up to my side. She's not shy about maneuvering my arm so that she can lay her head on my shoulder, and, for some reason, that makes me laugh. It amazes me how this tiny slip of a girl can be so unintimidated by me. And, just to further prove her point, she presses her cold ass feet against me.

"Fuck!"

I flinch, but don't move, earning a giggle from her. "Sorry. It's freezing out there." She kisses the underside of my chin in apology, and then wraps her arm around my stomach, snuggling in as close as humanly possible.

I've never been much of a cuddler, but I can't bring myself to roll away when she lets out a content sigh. Within minutes, her breathing evens out, and I know she's asleep. She must be exhausted.

With my arm securely wrapped around her, I force myself to relax, and follow her soon after.

Cuddling isn't so bad after all.

My alarm goes off at six-thirty for my daily workout, and, for the first time in years, I ignore it. I'm toasty warm and wrapped around my gorgeous girl, not to mention that her soft, round ass is pressed snuggly up against my morning wood. The only downside is the mess of dark hair I have to blow out of my face.

My hand reaches down to caress her bare legs. Her skin is so soft, so warm. I slide my hand up underneath the shirt she's wearing to cup her tits. They're so full that they spill out of my hand, and I have pretty large hands. Fucking perfect.

I tweak one of her pretty pink nipples between my fingers, and earn a soft mewl in response. She arches her back enough to grind her ass against me. My hand snakes back down her body, down the front of her thighs, and up the back of them. I palm her juicy ass roughly before reaching between her thighs to stroke her drenched pussy. I lick and suck down her neck, careful not to leave a mark, because I'm not a fucking teenager, until I have her grinding against my palm.

"Do you like that, baby? You like waking up to my fingers in your pussy?" I try to tame my words a little because, while my girl is no virgin, she's definitely not very experienced. She's also a lady, and I'm trying my best to treat her like one.

She moans softly, pushing even harder against my hand.

"Answer me." My voice is rough and gritty in her ear. I guess I can only tame the asshole so much. I hope I don't scare her off.

" _Yes_." I'm surprised by her breathy answer, as well as the fresh wave of arousal that coats my fingers. I guess she is the perfect woman for me after all.

"FUCK!"

I'm not gentle as I push her on to her stomach and shimmy my boxer briefs off while encouraging her to lift her ass for me.

Fucking exquisite.

I gently palm her ass cheek as I position myself behind her.

"You okay, baby?" I ask as I fill her up to the hilt. See, I'm not a complete savage. She drops to her elbows, and pushes back against me, and, fuck, it's so tight this way. I don't know how I'm going to last.

I reach around to flick her clit as I drive into her hard and fast. Thankfully, it isn't long until she's quivering beneath me. She whines in protest when I pull out of her, and flip her over, but I just have to see her gorgeous face. I wrap her legs around me, and slide back in, groaning at the wet heat before leaning down to capture her pouty lips with mine.

She hesitates for a moment, but eventually gives in to my demand for her mouth.

I kiss her long and deep, matching my thrusts to the rhythm of our mouths. She's so sensual.

I pull back to look at her, and, when she finally falls apart in my arms, I waste no time letting myself go.

I'm not going to lie, having a twenty-one year old woman with twenty-one year old tits in my bed is exhilarating, but that's definitely not the only reason she's in my bed. Yes, she's probably the sexiest woman I've ever been with, but it's the way I feel when I look into her eyes that makes me want to keep her here. I've never felt a connection so deep.

Not even with Kate.

I spend a few more minutes cuddling and kissing her, but, all too soon, I realize I've got to get in the shower before I'm late to work. That's something that's never happened, and it's not about to start now.

Placing one final kiss to her temple, I roll out of bed, and head to my bathroom.

When I'm showered, and fully dressed for the day, I find my way back into my bedroom. Bella is dead asleep, looking absolutely tiny in my monstrosity of a bed. I bend down to kiss her cheek, and leave a note on the nightstand. I don't have the heart to wake her up. Especially since I know she's picking up every extra shift that she can. Having opposite work schedules already makes it hard to spend time together, but, when you add in her extra shifts, it's damn near impossible. I'm determined to make it work, though. I just wish I knew why she's so hell-bent on working so much.

Carlisle comes straight into my office when I arrive at work, takes a seat in one of the leather chairs, and tosses the Twilight file on my desk. He looks troubled when he reaches up to rub his chin, so I don't say anything, I simply open the file.

My eyes dart up to his concerned face when I read and then reread the top document. The third person with invested interest is none other than Charles Richard Swan, deceased.

"This can't be."

I'm shocked and angry. How could she not tell me? Why would she purposely keep this from me? She knows how hard I've been working on this acquisition. I go back to reread the document a third time. She knows that we're having a hard time locating the third party. Why would she do this?

"Why would she do this?" I know my brother doesn't have the answers, but I can't help but ask.

"I don't know, brother, but there's got to be an explanation. She'd never keep something like this from you on purpose."

Just then, Joyce interrupts, "Mr. Miller is on line one."

"Thank you, Joyce. I'll take it." I take a deep breath and then pick up the receiver.

"Edward Cullen", is my greeting. I don't have the patience for pleasantries this morning.

"Edward! It's wonderful that I got a hold of you. I was wondering if you could squeeze me into your busy schedule sometime today. I have some information to share with you." His cheerfulness grates on my nerves.

"Be here at eleven."

"Perfect. I'll see you then." Miller swiftly hangs up the phone, leaving me to stew in my annoyance.

Carlisle knows better than to say anything until my anger recedes, but, as soon as it does, he tells me that he's going to find out everything he can. We only have two hours until that leech gets here, and I have a phone call to make.

Carlisle stops at the door throwing one last warning my way, "Be patient with her. She doesn't deserve your wrath. Save it for Miller."

She answers on the third ring, her voice sleepy. "Edward!" She sounds so happy to hear from me, even though I left her less than an hour ago.

"Isabella, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me, no matter what, okay?"

"I'm always honest with you, Edward. What's going on? You're scaring me." Her defensiveness makes my hackles rise, but I reign it in.

"You know how hard I've been working to find the third investor in the company, Twilight Telecommunications, we're trying to acquire, right?" Please be honest with me, my internal monolog pleads.

"Yes. But I don't understand what that has to do with me." She sounds genuinely confused. What the hell?

"We finally found out who the third investor is."

"That's great, Edward! Now you can close the deal." The sincerity in her voice douses out my earlier anger. This girl really has no idea.

"Bella, the third investor is Charles Richard Swan. Which, by law, means the third investor is _you_."

Her sharp intake of breath is all I hear on the other end of the line. "This isn't funny, Edward." Oh, now she's pissed.

"This is no joke, sweetheart."

"What? _How_? I didn't inherit anything from my father's estate, except over three hundred thousand dollars of debt."

"No, baby. You don't inherit debt." I pinch the bridge my nose, because this conversation just took a turn in a direction I simply don't have time to deal with right now.

"Then tell me, oh wise businessman, why I'm paying over three hundred thousand dollars' worth of my father's bad debt?"

I don't have time for her attitude right now.

"I'll have to look into that later. Right now, I need you to come to the office, and tell me everything you know about Twilight Telecommunications."

"I already told you, Edward, I don't know anything about it. I didn't even know that it existed. I don't even know what it _is_! And I have to work tonight, so I apologize for not being available to be at your beck and call."

God, this woman can try my patience like no other.

"You're working again? This is the third extra shift this week." I swear she's going to work herself into the ground. It's not healthy.

"I have responsibilities, Edward."

I don't have time for petty arguments, so I just cut right to the chase.

"Well, who handled your father's estate?"

"My father's business partner." Her tone is short.

"Name?"

"Don't talk to me like a child."

"Then don't act like one. Name, Isabella."

"You're really pissing me off, Edward. I'm not one of your little cronies that you can talk to like that."

"Likewise, sweetheart. I don't have time for a temper tantrum. I have a meeting in thirty minutes so I need the name."

"Why, so you can destroy my father's business? Break it up and sell it for parts? I know how your company works, Edward Cullen."

Christ almighty.

"I'm not going to do anything but research, Isabella. I swear. I wouldn't do anything without discussing it with all affiliated parties. What kind of man do you take me for?"

"Aro Volturi."

With that, the line goes dead. She fucking hung up on me. I'll have to deal with her later, but I have more pressing matters to attend to right now.

I buzz Carlisle's office, and give him the name. We're working on limited time, and the last thing I want is to appear unprepared for our meeting with Miller.

As much as I want to wait until later to talk to Bella, I can't resist sending a text.

 _I'm sorry I'm a tyrant. I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. Please don't talk to Volturi until we get more information. It doesn't sound like he's doing right by you. I'm on your side, baby. Don't ever forget that._

 _~Edward_

I don't get an instant reply, but I'm not really expecting one, so I don't worry too much about it. I don't have time to, really. Before I can obsess too much about it, Carlisle comes in, and takes a seat.

"Your girl is getting royally fucked. And not by you."

Unfortunately, that's all that Carlisle gets a chance to say before Joyce informs us that Miller has arrived.

She shows him into my office, and he takes the empty chair next to Carlisle. Eleazar isn't in the office today, so we'll have to get him up to speed when he returns.

"It's good of you to make time for me this morning, gentlemen." Miller's voice is forcefully jovial, something I just don't have the patience for today.

"It's good to see you, James." Carlisle's voice is even and polite. I admire his ability to compartmentalize issues, and deal with the task at hand. I'm not nearly that personable. "What have you been up to? How's business?"

"It's looking up, my friend." He looks over at Carlisle before adding, "I got a new client. Referred to me from one of my big fish, as a matter of fact. He needs some help in getting this sale closed. Anyway, this girl is young, feisty, and all business. It's kind of cute that she actually thinks she knows what's going on. She doesn't realize that her lawyer is taking her for all she's worth. Not that I care, really, I'm making a profit out of it so, whatever, you know?"

He looks over at me and rolls his eyes, like I give a fuck about his naive clients. The only thing I want to talk about right now is the Twilight acquisition. That is until the next words come out of his mouth.

"But this girl. She's a total sex pot. Legs, ass, and the rack on her; man, I can't wait to see if they're real, if you know what I mean. She's a Bunny at the Playboy Club, just started a few months ago. She shot me down pretty hardcore, but I swear I'm gonna fuck her if it's the last thing I do."

Realization dawns in Carlisle's eyes at the same time it dawns on me. Miller must feel the shift in the atmosphere, as well as in my demeanor, because he's quick to ramble on.

"So, here are the affidavits you need to complete the sale. I got her to sign them pretty easily. I thought you'd appreciate that."

He tugs at his collar uncomfortably, and Carlisle's eyes are trained on me, as if the weight of his stare can keep the words in my mouth.

"Did you bother to explain to her what she was signing?" The venom is dripping from my voice, and Carlisle's eyes dart between James and me, trying to gauge my reaction.

The color completely drains from his face, and he swipes at the sweat beading on his forehead as he answers. "Uh… no. I didn't think you'd care how I got them. Just that I did."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Mr. Miller, we run an upstanding business here at Cullen Enterprises. We don't participate in shady business dealings, and we don't manipulate people into signing their rights away." I stare him down with all of the disgust I can manage before continuing, "I have no use for your type of business practices."

I get up from my large leather chair, and push my hands into my pockets as I slowly make my way around my massive desk. Carlisle opens his mouth to interrupt me, but I level him with a glare before he has a chance as I make my way to stand right in front of the chair James is occupying.

My expression is full of malice and warning as I give him my final parting words. Eerily calmly, I utter words that I hope he'll take heed of. "One more thing, Mr. Miller. If you ever speak of Ms. Swan in such a crude and disrespectful manner again, you'll live to regret it. As a matter of fact, you're never to speak to her, look at her or even _think_ of her in any manner ever again. Am I making myself clear?"

Fear paralyzes him for a split second before he nods, and slithers out from under my intimidating stance with a nod. I'm so furious that I don't even take satisfaction in his terror.

My hand immediately reaches for my hair the minute the door closes behind Miller. What has my girl gotten herself into?

I don't even realize that I say that out loud until Carlisle answers. "I don't know, brother, but we'll figure it out."

* * *

What do you think will happen with the Twilight Telecommunications acquisition now? Will Edward go through with it? What do you think Bella should do once she finds out how badly she's been taken for granted? What do you think Aro has actually done?

Kisses,

Lailaxx


	10. Chapter 10

Hello! Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the lovely readers who continue to read and support this story. I seriously love you guys.

If you want to see the Pintrest board just search: The Bunny Ranch

Lets be friends on Twitter and Facebook! lailabentz and Laila Bentz

Thank you so much to my beta, princess07890 for making my grammar perf and also not letting silly mistakes slip through. Ily

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Edward~**

To say it's been the day from hell is a complete fucking understatement. By the time Carlisle came in to talk this afternoon, his only advice had been, "I think we should call dad." And, after looking through his research, I had to agree. I told him that I needed to discuss it with Bella first, because it's got to be her choice. It's always got to be her choice, but know having a small idea what she's being put through makes my heart ache, and my blood boil for her.

I will destroy Aro Volturi if it's the last goddamn thing I do.

I pull into the garage and put the car in park. My hand immediately goes up to my hair and tugs, thinking about how she never even answered my text. I know I was harsh, but she was being a brat.

I think back to my original assessment of my beautiful girl and, while, yes, she is mature beyond her years in most aspects of her life, she's still so green behind the ears when it comes to relationships. It's frustrating, to be honest, but it doesn't change a damn thing. It doesn't change the way I feel about her. I will find the patience to deal with her growth in this area. She's worth it. I know it deep down.

I enter the house from the garage door, and imagine my surprise when I find Bella sitting at the kitchen island wearing the most outrageous and adorable rain boots I've ever seen. She's perfect.

"Zafrina let me in." She looks upset. Uncomfortable.

"You don't have to explain how you got in, baby. You're always welcome. I'm glad you're here."

I approach her slowly, because she kind of looks like a scared deer ready to bolt. Thankfully, she allows me to kiss her lightly on the mouth. That's a good sign. I don't linger, however, and make to remove my coat and suit jacket, draping them over one of the empty bar stools.

I remain silent, waiting for her to articulate whatever reason she has for coming. The atmosphere is just starting to get awkward when she finally speaks, but, when she does, I'm reminded of why I'm so drawn to her in the first place. Gone is the bratty girl I've seen lately; sitting before me is the strong woman I found irresistible.

"I gave away the extra shift for tonight. We have a lot to talk about; I'd appreciate it very much if you just gave me the facts, before letting let me work through it, and piece it together at my own pace. I'm not shutting you out, I just need to understand what I'm dealing with. Please understand that the accusations you're making are against the only person I have left in this world that I would consider family. I trust, or trusted, this man with everything. I trusted him with my life. When he said I would be better taken care of with a foster family, I trusted him. When he said his hands were tied when I had to move halfway across the country to live with Bess, I trusted him. When he said he'd set me up in an apartment without having to go through any legal hassles, I trusted him."

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep, shaky breath before continuing, "So please understand my need to understand. Please don't judge me for wanting to believe that he is doing right by me. That he's not trying to hurt me."

A big fat tear escapes from one of her eyes, and I can't hold back at the sight of it. I need to comfort her. I wrap my arms around her, and she lets me. But only for a moment before she gently pushes me away.

"Will you tell me what you found out?"

She swipes at her eyes; even with no makeup and wet lashes, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever known.

I walk over to my briefcase, and pull out the thick file that Carlisle had worked so hard on all day. But, before I hand it over, I need to make one thing clear.

"You're not alone, Bella. Not anymore. There are a lot of people who care deeply about you. The hard work that went into this file is a testament to that fact. We're not trying to hurt you or take anything from you. I'd never take anything from you. I want to give you the world. But I think you deserve to know the truth. What you decide to do from there is completely up to you. I'll support you no matter what."

Her big brown eyes look up at me with apprehension. I don't know if it's because of what I said, or because she's afraid of what she'll find.

She sets the thick folder on the counter top, and brushes her hand over the matte black surface before opening it up. I roll the sleeves of my shirt to my elbows, and grab a couple of water bottles from the fridge before taking a seat next to her. I know that she's going to need some help deciphering what all these documents mean, but I'll let her ask in her own time.

She pulls out page after page, pouring over what is printed on each one. When she looks up at me with sad, tired eyes, I know that I know I'm needed.

I reach for the top document and start explaining, "This is a seller's affidavit. It's a document needed to sell your shares of the business." She scans the piece of paper and then lightly traces her signature at the bottom. I push it aside and pick up the next one, "This is a limited power of attorney. This allows Volturi to make any necessary changes to the document in order to keep it compliant with the sale." Again, her loopy scrawl is at the bottom.

She closes her eyes and drops her head into her hands, "What kind of changes?"

She sounds so defeated.

I'm going to destroy that bastard.

"We'll have to talk to Carlisle to know for sure."

And so it goes; we spend the better part of an hour going through the documents, with me trying to give an overview of what they mean without going good into too much detail. By the end of the stack, she looks both shocked and stricken. She truly had no idea about anything involved with her parents' estate.

I don't want to overstep my boundaries, but I also don't want her to feel like she's alone in this or like she has no options. I hope she doesn't take what I'm offering the wrong way, but I have to say my piece.

"If you'd like, my father is willing to have a look at everything, and tell you what your options are. He's the best in the business. If anything is salvageable, he can get it done."

She looks up at me through tear filled eyes, "That would be a blessing, but I can't afford your father. And I'm not willing to take a handout. The last one I took cost me three hundred thousand dollars."

I can't help but be offended by the comparison, and it must show on my face because she's quick to correct herself.

"I'm not implying that he'd consult me for free, or that he's anything like Aro."

And with that last word… that last _name_ , she breaks into a heap of sobs that come from so deep inside of her that they sound downright painful.

Without a second thought, I gather her in my arms, and carry her upstairs. Setting her down gently at the end of my massive bed, I leave her for a moment, and head into my closet to grab a tee shirt and a pair of sweats.

When I return, I slip the thick red sweater and short pink top she's wearing off her body, and immediately replace the garments with one of my old, faded Harvard tees. She's still crying when I quickly remove her flowered rain boots and jeans. As soon as I pull the jeans from her legs, she curls up to the fetal position, and cries even harder. I quickly discard my shirt, tie, and slacks, and throw on the sweats so that I can crawl up on the bed, and hold her.

She doesn't fall into my embrace, but she doesn't push me away either.

She cried frame wracking, gut wrenching sobs for the better part of an hour, and then finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Once she's asleep, I make my way back downstairs, and gather up all of the paperwork, then take it to my home office. I also fix a quick dinner, just in case she wakes up hungry.

She comes down to the kitchen as I'm cleaning up. I hear her footfalls on the tile, and, when I look over my shoulder, she quietly says, "You left me."

"I made you some dinner. Can you eat for me?"

She shakes her head no. She sits in one of the stools, playing with the edge of a linen napkin.

"I can't believe that I'm paying thirteen hundred dollars a month for a shitty apartment that actually rents for eight hundred. I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid. You've been taken advantage of; there's a difference."

She lets out a humorless laugh before continuing, "I thought I was so strong and independent. But I'm not. No matter how you spin it, I'm not. I'm a fool. I'm a fool for ever trusting him."

"You were a child, Bella. Of course you trusted him. He was chosen by your parents. Of course you trusted him. Don't berate yourself for that."

She sighs heavily, resting her head in her hands, "What am I gonna do? I can't stay in his apartment."

"You can stay with me."

"No. I don't want this to throw us into a position we're not ready for yet. I can't move from one man's living accommodations to another's. I know your heart is in the right place, Edward, and I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I need to actually stand on my own two feet first."

She gives me a half smile before amending, "That doesn't mean that I won't spend plenty of nights here, I just need a space of my own. Especially with the way I feel right now. I hope you can understand that."

And I do. Once again, everything that she's trusted in has been ripped out from underneath her. She's truly he strongest person I've ever known, and my admiration and respect for her grows tenfold.

"Of course, Bella. I'll support whatever decisions you make. I'm on your side, sweet girl, and I always will be. Please don't doubt that."

"Do any of these papers interfere with my bank account? I've been saving for the next payment to Chase. But, obviously, Chase is going to have to wait until I get myself situated into a new apartment."

"I really think you should talk to my dad. It's not charity, baby. It's a girlfriend perk. There's quite a mess in that paperwork; you're going to need help. Just talk to him. And, if you're at all uncomfortable, then we'll figure something else out."

"You really think I'll need a lawyer? It's that bad?"

"It's a mess that's been snowballing for nine years, sweetheart. I think you're going good to need a team of them." I don't mean to scare her, but I want her to understand the severity of what's going on, and the fight she has ahead of her.

"And you're sure he won't mind? This sounds like a lot of work."

It will be. But my dad is basically retired. He only consults and picks up cases that he wants to be involved in. He's been bored out of his mind lately. He'll be happy to have something to do besides golf."

She still seems uncomfortable with the idea, but I know she can't handle this alone. Thankfully she agrees to meet with him, and I'm able to arrange it for the next afternoon. She's going to love my dad. He's the complete opposite of me.

"Thank God I don't have to work tomorrow. I have so much to do."

She reaches for my hand, and, with so much sincerity she says, "Thank you, Edward. Thank you for being here for me. I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

I cup my hand behind her head, and lean down to kiss her lips, because I just can't imagine not doing it at the moment. We're a team. And I'm prepared to spend the rest of my life showing her that fact until she believes it. Until she never doubts it. She deserves so much more than she's been given in this life.

"I'm going to come with you."

Her head snaps up like she's about to argue, and I put my hand up to stop her. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I may think of some details that you wouldn't think to ask. I'm not trying to smother you, or trample on your independence, I just want to help."

She thinks about it for a moment before agreeing. "Okay."

"For instance, maybe we should choose one or two neighborhoods, and limit the search to those. Where you're currently living isn't a safe neighborhood. There's no security. I'd prefer for you to consider safer surroundings."

"I agree with that. I'd be willing to give up size for safety." She looks over at me before adding, "I'd be comfortable with paying the same amount I'm paying now."

I pull out my laptop, and set it up for her. Making a list of the safest neighborhoods, and pointing out where they are in relation to the club. She doesn't have a car so it's important to me that she's not too far from work, the supermarket, and, well, me.

She spends the better part of the evening making and revising a list of apartments for us to see, setting appointments when necessary. I'm pleased with her initial choices, but it's hard to definitively say that until we actually see them.

I also make a list of the basic documentation she'll need in order to put in an application, if she finds a place she likes. We'll have to stop by her apartment in the morning.

Before we go to bed, I send Carlisle a quick text, letting him know that I won't be in tomorrow. Thirteen years of working, and this is the first personal day I've ever taken. It feels so strange. It's worth it, though, because Bella is and needs to be my priority. If we have any chance of making this relationship work, I can't put my work before her needs.

The next morning, I wake before Bella. I gently extract myself from her grip, and quietly make my way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. She had a rough day yesterday, so I'm determined to let her get a little more sleep.

Once I'm dressed, I head down to the kitchen to grab something quick and easy, because I'm fucking starving, and I doubt that Bella's plans include breakfast.

I freeze as I enter the kitchen. Kate is sitting at the island, eating a bowl of fruit and drinking a cup of coffee. She looks pristine, as always, in a cream colored suit and dark heels. She barely even glances in my direction as I speak, "What the fuck are you doing here, Kate?"

"Wow. I thought we were on better terms than that, Edward."

Her nonchalance annoys the fuck out of me. "Why are you here? And how did you get into my house?"

She looks up at me from under her lashes. "It was once my house, too."

"Cut the shit, Kate."

"Just as uptight as always, I see. And I still have a key. I didn't think you'd mind." She goes back to her bowl of fruit, not fazed by my comment at all.

"I do mind. Now, what do you want?" I hold out my hand, and she exasperatedly removes the key from her keyring, and slaps it down in my hand. I feel a certain satisfaction getting a rise out of her because it's such a rarity. She never does get to telling me why she's come, however, because Isabella makes her way into the kitchen.

"I stole your tee…" she cuts off mid-sentence, staring at Kate. She's wearing her jeans from yesterday, those ridiculous flowered rain boots, and my Harvard tee tied at her hip. Her face is freshly washed, and her long hair is piled up on top of her head. She looks so beautiful, and also really fucking young.

"Jesus Christ, Edward, are you having a mid-life crisis?" Kate hisses under her breath while turning accusing eyes toward me. "Is she even _legal_?"

She turns back toward Bella with a phony smile, "Hello, darling. I'm Kate, Edward's ex-wife."

I smirk when Bella returns the saccharin sweet phony smile. "What a pleasure to meet you. I'm Isabella." She doesn't offer any further explanation as she opens the refrigerator, and digs inside.

"I'll walk you out." I offer while Bella fixes herself breakfast.

Kate definitely looks put out, but follows me through the foyer, now she doesn't have a choice. "I was hoping to ride with you to the office to discuss some business matters."

"Kate, you can't show up at my house unannounced, and just expect to get what you want. I'm not going in to work today, but you're more than welcome to call Joyce, and schedule an appointment. Preferably, make it next week. I'm in the middle of something important."

There's fire in her eyes when she answers, "It's obviously not that important if you're taking the day off to hang out with jailbait in there." She gestures toward the kitchen with her thumb as she says this.

It is odd seeing Kate jealous; I've never seen it, not even once in all of our years together. I honestly don't even know how to react. It seems completely ridiculous and unnecessary.

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Kate. Go home to Garrett."

She looks appalled and pissed off all at once. "What would I possibly be jealous of, Edward? I've never cared about your booty calls in the past and I certainly don't now."

She's trying so hard for indifference, but fails miserably. She smooths her cream colored jacket, and then reaches up to smooth her hair. I can tell she's self-conscious, especially since it's obvious that she's recently hit the Botox.

"She's no booty call." I shove my hands into my pockets, and lean against the wall. "She's the one, Kate."

"Are you joking, Edward? Have you completely lost your mind? She's a child!"

I can't help but smirk at the insult. "She's certainly no child."

"You're disgusting. And you know what I mean."

"I'm dead serious. I'll wait as long as I need to for her sake, but I'm done. There's no more searching, as far as I'm concerned. She's it for me."

Her eyes soften at my declaration. "You're a good man, Edward. I hope jailbait realizes what she has."

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

A sadness settles in her eyes, and she shakes her head. With a delicate shrug of her shoulder, she tells me. "I was going to plead one last time for the Nantucket house, but I see now that it's a lost cause. I'd thought, if we could talk face to face, you might cave." She gives a resolved smile as she adds, "I hope she loves it as much as I do."

With a final hug that finally feels like goodbye, she leaves.

"I do." I hear Bella's voice from the doorway to the kitchen as I close the door behind my past. I turn toward her, not having any idea as to what she's answering.

She smiles as she clarifies, "I do realize what an amazing man you are. And I didn't listen the whole time; I just came to see if you were okay, and I heard her say it." She slides her arms around my middle, and tilts her head back to look up at me.

I cup her beautiful face in my hands, and lean down to kiss her. She grasps my wrists as I pull away so I kiss her again.

"You smell like me. I like it."

"It's your body wash, you Neanderthal." She smiles and rolls her eyes, going back into the kitchen to grab that hideous red sweater.

We stop by her apartment to get the paperwork she needs, and then head out to our first appointment.

The area is decent, but the security sucks. The leasing agent lets us into the apartment, and Bella immediately falls in love. It's pretty big with two bedrooms, hardwood floors, and updated appliances. I care far more about the security, and I don't hesitate to tell her that.

She tells the leasing agent that she'll think about it, and get back to her tomorrow.

The next one is in a very nice area, it's close to the club, and has excellent security. But, as soon as the leasing agent lets us in, I know that Bella hates it.

It's much smaller than the other apartment, and only has one bedroom. The bathroom is tiny, and the kitchen leaves something to be desired. It's also the same amount of rent. I think the security alone is worth it, but Bella disagrees.

By the fourth apartment, Bella is annoyed with me. And, to be honest, I'm pretty annoyed with her. I understand that she's a girl and all that, but security is far more important than closet space. I'm trying my best to be as supportive as possible without being overbearing, but it's so fucking hard.

"I want to show you a place, and I want you to be open-minded. Can you do that?"

I expect an immediate rebuff, but am surprised when she reluctantly agrees.

I pull up to the security gate of the familiar large red brick building in Naperville, and quickly enter my access code. Bella looks warily at me, but I keep things as professional as possible. I pull around the circular driveway into one of the eight carports, waiting for the agent I called earlier to meet us. I don't have time to worry too much about her reaction before Julia pulls up beside us.

I help Bella out of the car, and am pleased when she reaches for my hand.

"Mr. Cullen, it's a pleasure to see you. Isabella, I'm Julia, let's have a look at the unit, shall we?"

She pulls her set of master keys out from her handbag, and unlocks the front door, after entering an access code. She leads us up the large stairway, and around the banister to the top right unit. Bella looks around, obviously impressed by the stunning entryway.

Julia unlocks the unit, again with a key and a code, and leads us inside.

"Wow."

Bella's eyes are as big as saucers as she takes in the beautiful apartment. It's not huge, but it's definitely not small. It's got two bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms, along with a nice sized living area, and a modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops.

Julia's heels click against the dark hardwood floors, which echo in the empty space as she shows Bella around. "Come on, dear, let me show you the master bedroom."

When the ladies come back from the rest of the tour, I can see the turmoil in Bella's eyes.

"What did you think?"

"It's incredible, Edward. But there's no way I can afford this." She looks back longingly toward the bedroom.

"Well, let's talk about it. It's close to the club. It's in a fantastic neighborhood. The security is superior." I'm ticking off each of the selling points on my fingers as I say them.

She looks over her shoulder at Julia, "And how much are you asking for this unit?"

Julia's gaze flits to me ever so briefly before she smiles and answers in her most professional tone, "The rent is thirteen hundred dollars a month, basic utilities included. The only thing you'll need to get is cable and Internet."

Bella side eyes me, and sweetly asks Julia to give us a moment privately to discuss it. It's at this very moment that I know the gig is up.

As soon as the door closes behind Julia, Bella turns to me and crosses her arms. "I think it's pretty unbelievable that the rent on this amazing apartment is exactly what I can afford." She looks down at her perfectly manicured fingernails as she adds, "Would you like to explain yourself?"

"Yes, I own the building. But, in my defense, I also own the building of your other top choice. It would be difficult to find one that I didn't."

"You know what I mean."

"Okay, okay. The rent for this place is not normally thirteen hundred, but it is negotiable. The last couple that lived here paid $1450.

"Bella, you've been over-paying for the last four years. Consider the very small discount good karma being returned."

She grips her forehead, and closes her eyes, but doesn't say anything.

"It's everything you want and it's safe. I only thought of this place after I saw what you liked and disliked about every other place."

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Edward, but I don't want to go from one arrangement to another."

"I get it, baby, I do. But it really wouldn't be that way. I understand your desire for independence, and I fully support it. Especially with everything that's going on. You wouldn't deal with me. This property, and all of the others I own, are handled through a leasing agency. I have absolutely nothing to do with the operations of any of them. They're purely investment. I wouldn't see your contract, and I'd never see your rent. Bella, there's a difference between taking offered help, and blindly accepting someone's arrangement."

She places her elbows on the granite counter. And chews on her thumb, "I love this one."

"I know you do."

"I think it's good that you wouldn't be involved in any of the business dealings, but knowing that I'm getting that big of a discount just because we're dating. It feels… I dunno."

She molls over it for a few more minutes. "Let me pay the fourteen fifty that the last couple paid."

"Fourteen even, and all utilities."

"Edward." There's a warning tone to her voice.

"Isabella." I return it in spades.

"I can get my own Internet."

"Let me buy you a new bed. Yours sucks."

"I really love this place." She looks around again. "Promise me that you'll not interfere."

"I promise. Like I said, everything is handled through an agency."

"Okay."

"Okay."

It's the hardest promise I've ever had to make, but I know it's everything to her. If I'm to maintain her trust, I'm going to have to keep my hands out of her business. I can't manipulate situations to go as I see fit. I need to be grateful that she took this offer in the first place. I'm upset that she raised the price, but, at the same time, I need to learn the difference between helping and controlling. If she needed that concession in order to feel in control of her decision, then so be it.

I step outside, and make some calls as Bella fills out the paperwork involved. I'm just finishing up with a prospective client when she comes outside with a smile on her face, and two shiny keys dangling on her finger.

Julia stops her to program her passcode into the front door, and then proceeds to let her know that the same code will work for the gate.

I wave at Julia as she gets in her Lexus, and breathe deeply to try to maintain my calm when Bella slides her arms around my middle. It looks like public displays of affection are another thing that I'm going to have to get used to with Bella.

She reaches up to cup the back of my head, and pulls it down to her level so that she can kiss me thoroughly. I have to admit that I love kissing her far more than I hate doing it in public.

She chats excitedly about the new apartment while we make our way to my parents' place in Barrington. I love that she seems unaffected by the house as we drive up, but, then again, she grew up in a house much like this, according to those documents. I'll have to ask her about that.

My mother, prim as ever comes to the door to greet us. "Oh, you must be Isabella. My goodness, look at you. What a beauty. Edward, you didn't tell us she was so pretty."

She wipes her hands on her apron before embracing Bella. She pulls back, and cups Bella's face in her hands before shouting into the house.

"Ed, come here!"

She grabs Bella's hand, and leads her into the house, smiling at me over her head.

My dad is coming down the stairs as we enter the house. "Isabella, it's lovely to meet you. I was just sorting through your file. Come on up, hun; we've got a lot of work ahead of us"

"I really appreciate you doing this for me, Mr. Cullen."

"Nonsense. And none of that 'Mr. Cullen' business, it makes me feel old and uptight like that one over there." He winks at her as he gestures to me. "You can call me Ed, sweetheart."

She smiles at him, and then follows him up the stairs. I give my mother a quick kiss on the cheek, and then follow right after them. I know if anyone can help Bella in this situation, it's my father. He's a brilliant attorney, the best in the business.

Aro Volturi isn't going to know what hit him.

* * *

What do you think of Kate? Do you think they'll be able to do anything to Aro? What did you think of the apartment shopping? Do you think Bella made the right choice?

As always I love to hear your theories!

Lots of love, Laila xx


	11. Chapter 11

Hello! Once again I'm blown away by your love and support. I read each and every review and every single one of them affects me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You all are the motivation to finish this piece and knowing that there are people out there who care about this story and these characters is truly amazing.

If you want to see visuals check out the Pintrest board. Search: The Bunny Ranch. That's the easiest way to find it.

Lets be friends on Twitter and Facebook! lailabentz and Laila Bentz

Thank you so much to my beta, princess07890. You are the best!

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

"I'm making my famous pot roast for dinner. I'd love it if you stayed. It's Edward's favorite."

Elizabeth, or Liz, as she's asked me to call her, has got to be one of the sweetest people I've ever met. She's managed to not only make me feel welcomed, but also to feel comfortable in her presence.

"I'd love to stay, as long as Edward doesn't have other plans for us." I look over to where Edward is chatting with his father, and he gives me a thumbs up. "Would you mind if I helped you in the kitchen? If this is Edward's favorite, then I better learn how to make it."

She looks shocked, but happy at my request, and wastes no time leading me to her gorgeous kitchen.

"Do you cook?" Liz asks as she grabs a second apron from a hook in her pantry.

"I can get by. I like to cook, but I never really learned properly." I tie the apron around my waist, but look up at her to catch the look full of compassion.

"Well, I'm willing to teach you if you'd like to learn." Such a simple offer, but it means so much to me. I can only nod, too afraid I'll burst into tears if I open my mouth. Thankfully, she changes the subject.

"Edward tells me you met at the club?"

I'm not embarrassed about what I do, but I don't want Edward's mother to think that I'm some kind of trollop either.

"Yes. I tried working a traditional job, well, three, and I just couldn't make it. There was too much debt. I'm grateful for the opportunity Playboy gave me."

"Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to justify your job to me." She looks over at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Everything is set in here for now, follow me."

I follow her into a small parlor, or sitting room, and over to a bookshelf. She pulls a scrapbook down off of the shelf, and hands it to me.

"I had no reason or motivation, other than I thought it would be glamorous. And it was." She sits next to me on the dark brown leather sofa just as I open the scrapbook to the first page.

There on the very first page is a photograph of Liz in the Playboy Club dressed in a powder blue bunny costume. The color is a perfect complement to her shoulder length blonde hair and classically beautiful face. She was stunning. I trace the photo lightly with my finger before looking up at her with questions in my eyes. It's hard to believe that this classy, perfectly put together wife and mother had the very same job as me.

I take my time flipping through the album, taking in every photo from her Bunny days. There are photos of her at club openings and at events. There's some of her in The Bunny Lounge with other Bunnies. There's even a few of her in costume with Ed.

"I'm a blue Bunny, too. Dark blue, but still blue." I don't know why this pleases me as much as it does.

"I'm sure you're lovely in blue. I'll have to get Ed to take me to the club one day to visit."

Placing the photo album carefully back on the shelf, I follow her back into the kitchen to finish up with dinner.

Ed and Liz are so sweet with each other during dinner; I begin to see where Edward has learned how to treat a woman. You'd never know it based on only what you see before you get to know him, though. I'm beginning to think that gruff exterior is nothing more than a defense mechanism, though, if we're being honest.

I make plans to have lunch with Liz next week, and to meet with Ed again on Monday morning at Edward's office. Ed gives me a fierce hug and a promise that he'll get everything sorted out while Liz kisses both of my cheeks, as well as my forehead, before embracing me as we make our way to the door. I'm surprised when I see Edward hug his dad. I never expected him to be so openly affectionate with them.

The sense of relief is almost overwhelming. I honestly thought my situation was a lost cause, but, after speaking with Ed, I'm confident that some, if not most of this mess can be salvaged. He warned me that it'll be a long, tough road, but I'm ready to face it.

I reach over, and pull Edward's hand into my lap as he drives, playing with his long, elegant fingers. "What's going on in that pretty little head?" He asks as he turns slightly to briefly look at me. The way the moonlight is filtering through his window makes him look otherworldly. I take a deep breath, and force my thoughts to stay focused. It's too easy to get lost in the beautiful man beside me.

"I'm thinking about how grateful I am to your parents. I'm thinking about how loving they are. I felt safe and wanted. I liked that. I'm also thinking about how I don't have to make those ridiculous payments anymore, and how that's going to be so nice. I can probably get a car soon. That'll be _really_ nice."

"I'm glad you were able to get some peace of mind. What a bastard." He clinches his jaw, and it makes the angle look sharp enough to cut glass. God he's sexy.

"I don't want to talk about Aro."

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't relax either. This is not how I want this night to go. We had such a great day. I want happy smiling Edward back. I also kind of want to sit on his face, and that's definitely not going to happen if he's grumpy.

"You look exactly like your dad."

That earns a smirk. "You got a thing for my dad, Bunny Blue?"

I can feel my cheeks heat because, yeah, Ed is hot. "Obvi." I go for nonchalance, but, judging by Edward's chuckle, I fail miserably. With my face flaming, I try to save face. "Your mom is beautiful. With parents that look like that, it's no wonder you're a total babe."

"Nice save." There's my full megawatt smile. The one that makes the butterflies erupt and my lower belly clinch. I have to change the subject before I climb over the center console and jump him right here.

"It's so cool that your mom was a Bunny, too. She showed me her photo album."

"Yeah, she did it for years. My dad has pictures in his office. I'm surprised you didn't notice them."

"I was distracted." I see that he's not merging to get off on my exit. "Hey don't forget I have to stop by my apartment to pack. I leave for New York tomorrow."

He smoothly changes lanes just in time to make the exit. "Oh yeah, how'd that fitting go?"

"They're putting us in pink for one of the shoots and for the appearance."

The distaste must be written all over me because he chuckles again. "You don't like pink?"

"Pink is fine, I just feel like a little kid in a pink bunny costume."

He side eyes me, "Trust me, there's nothing childish about you in that bunny costume, no matter what the color." He licks his lips to drive his point home. Perv.

"We're doing a black and white shoot, too, so they're obviously putting us in black. I'm excited about that one."

"You gonna take a few for me?"

"Well, yeah. I've got to get those hot models off your wall somehow." I love when he flirts with me.

When stop at my apartment, I throw everything that I need for New York into my ratty old suitcase, as well as some other clothes to leave at Edward's house until I get moved into my new apartment. As I'm going through my underwear drawer, I notice a set I've never had a reason to wear, and I toss it in the box as well.

I'm beyond grateful that Ed is immediately submitting petitions on my behalf. That frees up my entire paycheck as well as my tips. I'm going to be able to live comfortably, and even buy some new furniture. You can imagine the relief I felt when he told me that I'd never have to make another payment to Chase, or anyone else. Not in regard to my parents estate, anyway.

It's saddening how much Aro has taken from me. We didn't get to discuss the finer details, but apparently it's a lot. Ed says Aro will be lucky if he doesn't spend the rest of his life in prison.

I drag the huge suitcase into the living room, thankful that I won't have to carry it. It's heavy and bulky, and to be honest, I'm not looking forward to lugging it to New York. But it's all I have, so it'll have to do.

When we get to Edward's house, he takes the bag upstairs, and puts it on the bed for me. He points out a couple of empty drawers that I can put my clothes in until I get moved. He heads into his giant closet and emerges with a smaller rolling suitcase and sets it on the other side of the bed.

"What's that?" I ask, pointing toward the very expensive piece of Louis Vuitton luggage and toiletries bag that he's laid out on the bed.

"That, my sweet girl, is the luggage you're going to take to New York because I refuse to carry that contraption through the airport." He leans his shoulder against the wall, and crosses his arms across his chest, clearly braced for an argument. The problem is that he's not going to get one from me. I'm relieved to not have to carry that huge, ugly suitcase. I swear to all that is holy that it weighs more than me.

"Okay. Thanks, babe."

He looks surprised by my easy acceptance of his sweet offer, but doesn't say anything about it. He merely kisses the top of my head, and lets me know that he'll be in his office working while I get everything sorted out.

It takes nearly an hour and a half, but I feel so much better once everything is put away and my bags are packed. I double check everything, and then pull out the gorgeous white lacy lingerie before heading to the shower.

I throw one of his white dress shirts on over the lingerie, tousle my hair, gloss my lips, and make my way to his office. I don't say anything, I just lean against the doorframe, making sure that the shirt is pulled away from my body, and doesn't cover anything.

He looks up from his computer, and I'm momentarily distracted by how insanely hot he looks in his glasses. He takes them off, and leans back in his leather chair, slowly letting his gaze slide down my body. It's almost unnerving how long it takes for him to react, especially because all he does is push his chair away from his desk, and curl his finger to beckon me over.

The intensity in his eyes gives him away, though. That, and the sexual energy pulsing in the air.

He steeples his hands under his chin, lightly stroking his two day old beard as I discard the shirt, and slowly make my way over to him wearing only sexy white lace.

I don't do anything when I finally make it over to him but stand there and let him look. He's a very visual man, and likes to take his time just looking. Appreciating. He makes a twirling motion with his finger, prompting me to turn in a slow circle, allowing time for him to admire the back view.

He reaches out to trace the scalloped edge of the bustier, and then lets his hand slide down to caress the soft skin of my stomach before reaching out to grasp both of my hips in his large hands. He pulls me toward him, and immediately attacks my ample cleavage with his lips and tongue.

His hands slide around to squeeze my bottom, and I let my head fall back at how good his mouth and hands feel.

I slide one of my hands into his soft, silky hair and slide the other around his broad shoulders when he pulls me to straddle his lap.

He pulls his mouth away from my breast just long enough to groan out, "I _love_ this." As he slides one of his long, elegant fingers under the strap at my shoulder. I pull on his hair to tilt his head back so that I can kiss his mouth.

My lips barely graze his before he presses his tongue into my mouth. I can see it as I'm closing my eyes, and I can't help but moan; it's got to be one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.

He reaches up to grip my jaw, tilting my head just the way he wants it. I thought it would be a turnoff to have such a dominant lover, but I was grossly mistaken. Everything about the way he touches me turns me on.

I'm an impatient, wanton mess by the time he agonizingly slowly, and very thoroughly explores my mouth. I both love and hate how much control he has. I love it because nothing has ever felt so amazing, and I hate it because all I want right now is feel him inside of me.

I can't help but grind myself against the very hard bulge in his jeans, desperate for any kind of friction I can get.

But then I remember my plan.

So as much as it pains me to do so, I pull away from his mouth and climb off of his lap. He looks confused for a second, but the hunger in his eyes comes back tenfold when I slowly sink to my knees. I try to calm my trembling hands as I remove his shoes and socks, but it's so hard with the way he's slouched in his chair intently watching me. His very presence is intimidating.

I sit high up on my knees, and reach for his belt buckle, easily getting it along with his jeans unfastened. He lifts his hips to help me pull them off, and there it is. Long, thick, and standing at attention.

He reaches behind his head, and pulls his sweater and tee shirt off in one fell swoop. It's such a guy thing to do.

I place my hands flat on his thighs, noticing the way the coarse hair tickles my palms, and look up at him as he again leans back in the chair. I allow myself a moment to admire him in all of his naked glory, taking in the way his jaw is clenched to the sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen.

When my gaze finally makes it to his peen, I swallow hard. I have no idea how I'm going to fit that monstrosity in my mouth, but I'm sure gonna try. This man does so much for me every single day. He treats me like a queen. The very least that I can do is give him an awesome blow job. I know I've got some skills, so it's time to put them to use.

Wrapping my hand around him, I pump a couple of times before softly squeezing the base. I place an open mouthed kiss on the head before dragging my tongue along the underside from his balls to the tip. This earns a hiss from him.

With my confidence surging, I look up at him with innocent doe eyes as I take as much of him into my mouth as possible and suck hard, hollowing out my cheeks.

"Fuuuuck!"

His deep voice fills the space as I pull back slowly, swirling my tongue around the head. He threads his fingers into my hair, and tugs as I slide my mouth down on him again and again, never taking my eyes off of his.

"Your lips look so fucking good wrapped around my cock."

I close my eyes, and let his dirty words surround me, working his shaft thoroughly. When he starts thrusting into my mouth, I know he's close. My jaw starts to ache, but I'm determined to make him come.

I take him back as far as possible, and when the head hits the back of my throat, I start swallowing. The sensation is enough, and with a deep groan, he releases down my throat.

I don't even have time to taste him before he's pulled me up onto his lap with his tongue in my mouth. I've never had a guy kiss me after going down on him; I'd have to say it's insanely hot.

He manages to rid me of my bustier and panties without ever pulling away from my mouth, and then he stands abruptly, turning me so that I'm facing away from him.

He grabs my hip with one hand and pushes between my shoulder blades with the other so that my torso is lying flat against his desk.

I push back against his hand that's currently massaging my butt, and he dips it lower to feel that I'm drenched and ready for him.

He positions himself at my entrance, and presses inside slowly, allowing me to acclimate to his size before moving in and out in deep, steady strokes.

His large hands caress my back before grabbing both of my hips, and using them for leverage to pound into me. It's hard and fast, and when he reaches around to pinch my clit, I'm done. I feel as though I shatter into a million pieces as he groans and collapses into his chair, bringing me with him to curl into his lap.

My body feels like Jell-O as melt against him, thoroughly enjoying the way he's kissing me and caressing my skin. It's such a sharp contrast how he can be such a domineering lover, yet so tender afterward.

He easily picks me up, and carries me to his bed settling in to curl around me. I relax into his embrace, and think for a moment that this must be what love feels like. Whatever the feeling is, I never want it to end.

The next morning, we bustle around the bathroom getting ready, and he makes the time to take me to the airport. I'm deeply touched by the effort, and have to swallow back those three words that are on the tip of my tongue as he kisses me goodbye.

I take the fancy rolling luggage from him, and fight back tears as I head through security. I don't know why I'm being such a baby; I'll see him in seven days. That's nothing.

Once I make it to the gate, I'm distracted by the group of girls I'm traveling with. I'm thankful to have Alice and Carmen with me, although I'm sad that Esme declined the trip. I'm determined to have fun because I've never been to New York, and now I have some money to spend.

The flight is short, but it's nice that we're treated to business class. It makes sense why they asked us to dress professionally. We are representing Playboy, and they always want to maintain a classy image.

A stretch limo picks us up from the airport and takes us to The St. Regis New York, the hotel we'll be staying in during our trip. It's magnificent, unlike anything I've ever seen before. The lobby is marble with gold accents, and has a painted ceiling. I'm in awe of its ornate beauty, and I wish so much that Edward was here to experience it with me.

I look over at Alice, and she looks to be as awed as me. When she looks over at me, she reaches over to grasp my hand. I know what she's conveying without saying a word. Neither one of us ever imagined we'd see, let alone stay in, a place like this. I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude for Playboy and all of the opportunities it has afforded me.

Once we get checked in we make our way to our adjoining suites. Mine is decorated in creams, gold, and deep blue. Appropriate. As I let my gaze wander around the living room, the huge bouquet of red roses catches my eye. My heart flutters in my chest as I make my way over to the arrangement and pick up the card that's propped against the gorgeous crystal vase.

Tears once again well up in my eyes at the note that's inside.

 _Bunny Blue~_

 _Did you know that there are over 900 species of red roses? Just a bit of trivia for you._

 _I miss you already._

 _~Edward_

* * *

Uh oh...sounds like someone is feeling the L word. What do you think Bella will do with that tid bit of information? Are you guys excited to hear about her New York Bunny experience? Do you think Edward will miss her? How do you think Aro is taking being served with the legal documents?

As always I love to hear what you all are thinking.

Reviews are love

Kisses, Laila xx


	12. Chapter 12

I can't believe that we are already twelve chapters in. Thank you so much for supporting this story. I love these characters so very much and I want to see them through to the end. They have so much more to say.

If you want to see pictures, follow me on Pintrest! Search: The Bunny Ranch

Let's be friends on Facebook and Twitter! Laila Bentz and lailabentz. I'd love to discuss the story with you guys!

Thank you to my beta, princess07890 for making me sound smarter than I am. You da best!

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Edward~**

 _Thank you for the flowers. I miss you too ~B_

 _Have fun at dinner, Beautiful. I'll see you on Skype tonight ~E_

Bella texts back one of those creepy little kissy faces, and I know that's all I'll hear from her until bedtime.

The workday drags unbelievably slowly and I know it's because I'm missing my girl. I'm working on a new acquisition, since Twilight has been put on hold indefinitely. I talk briefly to Mr. McClintock, and we agree to meet tomorrow at two to go over financials. He seems like a good man so far, and I'm looking forward to meeting him in person.

Joyce brings me my usual turkey sandwich for lunch, but it's just not what I'm craving. I decide to take a walk down to the McDonald's down the street, and grab a greasy burger instead.

I'm about half a block from McDonald's when I hear my name. "Edward!"

Turning toward the sound, I see Chelsea emerging from the building that she works in. She easily catches up and falls into stride beside me. "Chelsea."

I don't mean to sound so curt, but I honestly can't think of anything else to say. I really have no desire to strike up a conversation with her.

She seems to take it in stride, however, smiling as she continues to speak, "I heard you put a halt on the Twilight acquisition."

"I did."

"I was surprised. As long as I've known you, nothing has ever stumped you enough to stop pursuing a company."

I merely grunt in response. She doesn't need to know any of the dirty details of my girl's situation.

She grasps my bicep, and pulls me to a stop just feet from my destination; all I can think is, _don't make this weird, Chelsea._ It would be prudent if we could continue to work together. Chelsea is a genius with financials, and I've consulted her quite often in the past. I guess this is where the age old saying comes from: _don't mix business with pleasure_.

"Do you want to get together for drinks tonight? It's been awhile." She looks up at me from under her false lashes as she reaches for the lapel of my jacket. Her perfume surrounds me, and it's all wrong. "I'm beginning to think you're avoiding me."

I grab her hand to stop its decent. "I don't think so, Chelsea." Her blue eyes flicker with surprise, and then steel with resolve. I know, right then, that she's not going to give up so easily. She's a beautiful woman, don't get me wrong. She's tall and slender with shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes. I definitely found her attractive at one point, but those days are long gone.

"Why not? We were so good together. We can _be_ so good together. I've been patient, Edward, but now I'm ready for more. I deserve more."

I really don't want a scene here in the middle of the street, and it looks as though she's about to make one, but I've got to say my piece. "There is no _more_ for us. You knew damn well what you were getting into with me when we started whatever it was that we were doing. I never made any promises to you, Chelsea."

"So that's it then? You get to decide everything? I don't even get a say in what happens to us at all?"

"No."

"Why?" Her bottom lip trembles, and I know it has more to do with her pride than anything she feels for me. Chelsea is an opportunist. She doesn't care about me. She only cares about what I can give her.

"Because there is, there never was, and there never will be an ' _us'_. I'm also not going to disrespect the woman that _does_ have my heart one more second by standing here arguing with you over something that was over before it started. You used me as much as I used you. Don't try to paint it any differently. I hoped we could maintain a working relationship, but I see that's no longer an option. Take care of yourself, Chelsea."

And with those parting words, I leave her on the sidewalk with her mouth agape, and head into the McDonald's to grab my quarter pounder. I know I'm an asshole, but, damn, no means no. And I have very little patience for hissy fits unless, of course, they belong to a certain brunette.

It's crazy how someone comes into your life, and changes everything. I never thought I'd want to get married again, and I'd long given up on the idea of fatherhood, but those things no longer seem impossible. I know that Bella has a ways to go before she'd even consider those things, but at least they are real possibilities.

Kate never wanted children. She thought they'd infringe upon our lifestyle. No matter how much I begged, she was just not receptive to the idea. I, on the other hand, have always wanted kids. Maybe it's because I had such a great childhood, such great parents. I think that's why I hold on so tightly to the home in Nantucket. I know that I don't use it, but it's the last hope I have for someday having a family.

I can't get ahead of myself, though. I know that Bella and I are headed in that direction, and I know how she feels about me, but I need to be careful not to push her too far, too fast. She has a lot on her plate; the last thing she needs is an old man breathing down her neck about marriage and kids.

I am the master of self-control.

I can be patient.

I hope.

When I get to the office the next morning, I set to work on preliminary numbers for the McClintock acquisition. It's about three o'clock when Carlisle comes and sits at my desk, but I barely glance up from my computer screen. I've engrossed myself so far into work today that I don't even realize that I've skipped lunch, and now, I'm starving.

"I got a call from Victoria today. She's livid."

This doesn't surprise me one bit. Victoria is a viper.

"I expected as much. But I'm not going to touch that acquisition with a ten foot pole until Bella's situation is sorted out, and she decides what she wants to do with her part of the company. If she wants to keep it, we'll buy the others out, and keep it. If she wants to sell it, we'll do that. Victoria can wait."

"You've got it bad, brother." Carlisle chuckles as he teases me; normally I would get pissed, but not today. He's absolutely right, and there is no point in trying to hide it, so I merely nod as I continue to type. I'm about to ask if he thinks she'll do anything hasty when my phone alerts me to an incoming message.

I check it right away, and wish I'd waited until I was alone because, _damn_.

It's a series of three pictures. The first is a black and white snapshot of my girl's ass, in her Bunny costume, bent over a chair. The second is a picture of her at her last fitting for the black costume, and, fuck, she's falling out of it everywhere, and the last is just a picture of her in a black push-up bra. Holy mother, she's sexy.

"Problem?" My annoying little brother laughs as he gets my attention. I slam the phone face down onto my desk, and I swear my ears are on fire. This only eggs Carlisle on more. "Dude, what did she send you to have you blushing like a schoolgirl?"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole." That's the best I can muster; it really has no impact because I am indeed blushing. My little vixen. I can't resist picking up my phone, and scrolling through the naughty images once more, making sure to save each one. I text her back, just to let her know that she's sufficiently tortured me, and that she'll be paying for it when she comes home to me.

Her only reply is: "I'm counting on it." With a little winky face.

Next Thursday cannot come soon enough.

To be perfectly honest, I've never been in a relationship with someone who excited me this much. And I don't mean just sexually. She excites me in ways that I've never experienced before. It's both frightening and exhilarating.

Zafrina has dinner ready for me when I get home, and I'm grateful. After I eat, I head down to my gym, and manage to get a good workout in before Bella Skypes me. It's surprising how restless I feel until I'm able to see her gorgeous face.

She looks like sin when we connect, even with her freshly washed face and one of my white v neck tee shirts. I let my eyes flicker across her beautiful face, taking in every freckle before finally landing on her big brown eyes.

"Baby."

Her voice is breathy and sweet, and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. God, I've missed her. "Hey, baby. How'd the shoot go?"

"Really good. It was so cold, but we got some great shots. I think you'll like them."

"I'm sure I will. You have a free day tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah. Alice, Carmen, Maggie, and I are going shopping on Fifth Avenue. I'm excited."

She goes on to tell me that she's going to buy a fancy purse and some lingerie, but that's it. I'm very excited about that. She teases me a little before Maggie comes into her room. She giggles at something Maggie says before turning her attention back to me.

"Maggie says that you're mean."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. She says that she's not even flirting with you, but you're still short with her." She's smiling as she says this, so I know she's not mad.

"She's very flirtatious, and I have no desire to flirt with anyone but you. If that makes me an asshole, so be it."

"You were short with me at first." She plays with the ends of her hair, a wicked smirk on her face.

"You made me nervous." Honesty seems like the best way to go in this situation.

"I did?" Her milk chocolate eyes widen like saucers. It's endearing that she has no idea how gorgeous she is. And her little spitfire personality is a force to be reckoned with.

"Very much so."

She smiles a shy smile. "You made me nervous, too. But not anymore. Now you make me happy. And horny." She gives me a glimpse of her panties as she says this. My naughty girl.

"Those are good things to be." I lean back in my chair, and rub my chin, hoping for a little more of a show. She glances over her shoulder, I guess making sure Maggie left, and then gets up to close and lock the door to her room. She pulls the shirt over her head, revealing her perfect, voluptuous, nude breasts and tiny black panties, and gives me the show I desperately want. It pales in comparison to having her here with me, but it's still very erotic.

The rest of the week seems to move in slow motion, but, finally, Thursday approaches. I've arranged to pick her up from the airport because I just couldn't imagine waiting one second longer than I have to in order to see her. She sees me as soon as she passes through security, and literally runs into my arms. Her suitcase, purse, and the bouquet of brightly colored flowers I'm holding all hit the ground with a thud as I catch her tiny form mid-leap. She wraps her long legs around my waist, and kisses all over my face, making the elderly man behind me laugh. It's in moments like this, when I feel like the most important man in the world to an incredible woman like Bella, that I wonder why I was ever so vehemently against public displays of affection. Her attention, her affection, and the fact that she kisses me with everything she's got, regardless of who is watching us, makes me feel about ten feet tall.

Once she's finally pulled away from my mouth, she buries her face in my neck, and holds me tightly for a moment before I set her carefully back on her feet. I tug at the hem of her dark blue velour jacket, knowing how much she dislikes it, and then bend down to pick up the fallen items. I hand her the flowers, along with her purse, and easily pick up the suitcase before reaching for her hand to lead her to my car. Hey, I'm getting the hang of this hand-holding thing.

She chats excitedly about her trip, and proudly shows me the new fancy purse she bought. She goes on and on about the hotel room, and insists that we need to go to New York together for a weekend trip. I'll definitely take her back there, but, for the first weekend trip we take, I'd love to show her the water. It'll be a couple of months until it's warm enough to enjoy it, though.

We head straight to my house so she can unload her bags and shower. We are meeting Carlisle and Esme for dinner but we have plenty of time. I lean on the door jamb as she flitters around the bathroom because she insists that she missed me too much to let me out of her sight. I can't complain, I get to see her in all of her naked glory, and then in sexy black underwear as she puts on her makeup. I'm always amazed at how different she looks fully made up. Definitely older, although she's stunning to me either way.

When she's finally dressed, we head to the restaurant. The host pisses me off right off the bat when he leers at Bella in the crudest way before asking us to follow him. He glances back over his shoulder as he easily navigates the room and asks, "Brought your daughter out for a fancy meal, eh mate?" His smarmy accent only adds to the insult.

I don't answer.

I pull out Bella's chair, and instinctively raise my hand to touch the gray at my temple when I sit down. I must look uncomfortable because Bella is immediately looking around asking, "What? What did he say to you?"

Thankfully, Carlisle and Esme haven't arrived yet.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." I don't mean to be short with her, but I can tell that I am by the hurt expression on her face. I don't even have a chance to apologize when the asshole is back.

"What can I get you to drink, sweetheart?" I interrupt, mostly because I hate the smile that she gives him. "A bottle of Cristal." He smirks in my direction before turning back to Bella giving her a regretful expression. "I'm sorry, honey, I'm going to need to see your ID. Being with your father isn't enough in this restaurant."

She looks absolutely appalled before bursting into laughter. Full on, deep belly laughs, leaving both the waiter and me absolutely stunned and confused. What the fuck could she possibly think is funny about that comment?

"My father?" She swipes at her eyes as she asks, still fighting off giggles.

"Yes?" Now the waiter looks really confused, and I'm getting more and more pissed by the second. Not to mention how embarrassed I am.

She glances over at me with a knowing, evil glint in her eye before answering him. "What was your name again?"

His gaze flits over to me briefly before answering, "Justin."

She reaches over, and places her hand high on my thigh as she looks at him from under her long, thick lashes while she crosses her long shapely legs seductively. "Clearly, Justin, Mr. Cullen isn't my father." She lifts her hand from my leg to caress the hair at my temple before dragging it down across the stubble on my jaw. "Mr. Cullen is my lover, my soulmate, the man who holds my heart, and shares my bed. So, Justin, I'd really appreciate if you showed this incredible, very powerful man the respect that he deserves."

I'm in awe of her by the end of her little rant, and I don't know what comes over me, but I grasp her jaw, and lay a quick passionate kiss to her pillow soft lips, resting my forehead against hers afterward. "Thank you."

She merely wipes the smeared lipstick from my mouth, and smirks at me in response.

"Whoa, get a room." My little brother always has a way of ruining the moment.

Bella stands to hug Esme as I stand to one-arm-man-hug Carlisle, and then we switch before they take their seats at the table.

The girls discuss Bella's trip to New York while Carlisle and I discuss the conference call we have with a potential buyer for the McClintock deal. The buyer is in Japan, so, an eleven o'clock in the morning call for them, means a nine o'clock at night call for us.

After dinner, Esme will drop Bella off at her old apartment so that she can pack up all of her belongings; I'll meet her there after the conference call. We plan to just spend the night there so that she can be present in the morning when the movers come. We are both anxious to get her moved into her new apartment. Thank fuck this is the last time I have to sleep in that horrible bed. Her new, big enough for Edward, bed will be delivered to her new apartment tomorrow as well.

After enough PDA to make me slightly uncomfortable, Bella kisses me one last time, and then leaves with Esme.

The conference call goes longer than I expect, but it's productive, so I really can't complain. Eleazar calls Carmen and Carlisle calls Esme to let them know they're on their way home. I do the same, but the call goes to Bella's voice-mail. I don't worry too much about it, though, figuring that she's distracted by packing.

When I turn down her street, however, it's barricaded, and when I look up at her building horror and utter panic fills my very core. "Bella!" I shout as I hastily park my car, and rush toward the building. Two police officers stop me, "We cannot let you go in there, sir."

"But my girlfriend. That's her apartment!" I try with all my might to yank my arms away from these bastards but they only hold on to me tighter. My eyes are fixated on the building engulfed in raging flames.

"I need to find her. You don't understand, I _need_ to find her." My voice catches on the last word.

"The evacuees are over in that parking lot, and there's a team of firefighters up there right now trying to get into that apartment. But I need you to remain calm. They'll get to her."

"How the fuck do you expect me to remain calm? That's my life in there!" My arm swings out, and hits one of the officers.

The officers glance at each other briefly, and then push me to the ground, twisting my arms painfully behind my back. Then, the big one announces,

"Sir, you need to calm down; you're a danger to yourself and others. I'm placing you in cuffs for your safety, and the safety of those around you."

After securing the cool metal handcuffs around my wrists, he yanks me to my feet, and then proceeds to shove me into the back of his car. I continue to resist, all the while fluctuating between watching the flames, and the front door. I pray hard. I make promises to God, and I make promises to the devil. I don't care what it costs me, I need Bella to be okay.

It feels like hours pass, even though it's only a few minutes, but when I see a firefighter stagger through the front door carrying my soot covered, unconscious girl, I absolutely lose my mind. I'm going absolutely bat shit crazy in the back of the cop car.

The big one taps on the window, pointing toward the front door, asking if that's her. When I scream that it fucking is, he promises to let me go, but only if I can calm down. I instantly stop moving because I'll literally do anything to get to her, but, as soon as I'm free, the firefighter takes one more staggered step and collapses. I run across the lot as quickly as my legs will take me, but I don't make it before she hits the pavement in a heap.

I scoop her tiny, limp body into my arms, and frantically look for the ambulance. Tears burn my eyes as I yell, "Somebody help us; God please help us!. She's not breathing!"

Everything is a blur around me.

I sink to my knees as the paramedics take her lifeless form from my arms.

* * *

I REALLY can't wait to hear your thoughts...

Lots of love, Laila xx


	13. Chapter 13

Hello lovlies! I'm really feeling the love on this special day so I thought I'd get this chapter up. Even though It's pretty late here, I'm still making it in time for Rob's birthday. Happy birthday you hunk of a man!

As always, thank you for all of your continued support. I love you guys so much!

If you want to see pics head on over to Pintrest and search: The Bunny Ranch.

Let's be friends on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram! Lailabentz or Laila Bentz

Thank you to princess07890 for making me sound super smart. Heart you, bae.

I own nothing.

Let's get on with it, shall we?

* * *

 **~Bella~**

My throat hurts, and the beeping in the background is making my headache worse.

I try to open my eyes, but my eyelids feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. It takes too much effort to try, so I just let myself drift away again.

It's easier that way.

"Baby, please come back to me. I love you so much. I only just found you! We have so much to do together. I want to take you sailing, and I want to take you to Europe. I want to spend uninterrupted weeks with you in some exotic, tropical paradise and I want to spend days in Disneyland with you and our children. Baby, please. We just got started."

Edward's voice. It's all I hear. I like it here; he loves me back in this dreamland. I think I'll stay.

The beeping is back; louder than ever. I hear a muffle of voices, and I strain to hear the one I want.

"Arson. I don't know. He's skipped town. I'm going to kill that bastard. Her vitals are good. She could awaken at any time. I know. It's hard."

I allow myself to drift off again because the effort to open my eyes is just too great.

When I finally come to, the beeping is louder than ever. My head is groggy, and my throat is so incredibly raw.

I open my eyes, squinting against the dim light. It hurts my eyes. I try again, and am able to blink away the uncomfortableness.

Turning my head slightly, I see the mop of bronze hair asleep against the mattress. He can't possibly be comfortable in the awkward position he's bent in. I reach up to slide my fingers through his silky hair; the motion jolts him awake.

He sits up, and his emerald green eyes are wide and frantic until the look into my own.

"Bella? Oh, baby, you're awake. How do you feel? Let me call the doctor."

I can't answer because my throat feels like sandpaper. My hand instinctively flies up to grasp my neck, and Edward gets up from his chair to grab a cup of ice chips immediately.

He slides one, two, and then three into my mouth before the fire starts to subside, and it's at least another ten before it's soothed enough to just feel scratchy.

He reaches up with so much tenderness in his eyes, and brushes my matted hair away from my face. I close my eyes, and enjoy the feeling of his lips against my skin when he leans down to kiss my face. He sits back in the chair, and brings my hand to his lips as the nurse comes into my room, followed by the doctor.

"Ms. Swan, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

I reach up to touch my throat again. His eyes soften in understanding. Edward reaches for the ice chips again while the doctor keeps talking.

"You had quite a bit of smoke inhalation, but you don't appear to have any permanent damage. We'll monitor you closely over the next several months to assure that there are no lingering complications. You're very lucky to be alive."

He proceeds to thoroughly examine me, and fills me in on my injuries. Although they are severe, they are treatable, and for that I am thankful. I look over at Edward; for the first time since I opened my eyes, I notice how worn down he looks.

"And the firefighter?" Edward interjects when the doctor starts making notes in my chart.

The doctor looks up from the iPad, and fills us in. It seems that the firefighter, Riley Dawson, is in far worse condition than me. I feel the guilt start to seep into my mind, but then Edward, as always, manages to make everything all right.

"How can I get in contact with his family? I'd like to cover his medical expenses and whatever rehabilitation he needs."

The doctor's eyes go wide before he gives Edward the floor and waiting area Riley's wife frequents, since he cannot give out Riley's actual room number. "That's very generous of you, Mr. Cullen."

"It's the least that we can do."

Tears well up in my eyes at his generosity, and I hate how harshly I judged him in the beginning. I honestly thought he was just a rude, snobbish player, yet he's proven time and time again that he's so much more.

When he catches sight of my tears, he's all over me. "What is it, baby? Are you in pain?"

I shake my head no, because I'm too choked up to speak. Once the doctor sees that I'm okay, he leaves the room to give us some privacy. As soon as the doctor is out of sight, however, Edward presses again, "Are you sure you're all right, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

I shake my head again; this time the tears spill over. "I just…" My throat cracks from lack of use, and Edward is quick to hold a cup of water with a straw to my lips. Once I've taken a few sips, I try again, "I just love you."

His eyes soften with my whispered words, and reflect so much tenderness back at me. He leans down to press a feather soft kiss to my temple and then to my lips.

"I love you, too, Bella. With all that I am."

My tears are uncontrollable as I let his declaration wash over me. This is the first time in my life that I have felt safe, secure, wanted, and truly loved.

How ironic is it that I'm feeling these things while in the hospital after I nearly lost my life.

That thought alone brings a new round of tears to my eyes.

Edward cradles me to his chest, and rocks me gently as he attempts to soothe me. I want desperately to wrap my arms around him, but I can't with all of the tubes and wires attached to my body. Thankfully, according to the doctor, I should be released within the next few days if I continue to improve.

"What about my job? I don't want to get into trouble." It's a random, but perfectly valid thought.

He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear as he answers me, "I've already talked to them. Esme has as well. As a matter of fact, those pink roses by the window are from the club, and the white ones next to them are from Playboy. They send you well wishes, and hope for a speedy recovery. Your job is secure, I promise."

I nod my head in response because I'm suddenly very tired. I glance at Edward apologetically, but I just can't stay awake. I have a lot of questions about the fire, and who he was talking to earlier, but those questions will have to wait until I'm stronger and more alert.

Edward must notice my struggle to stay awake because he tells me to get some rest, and that we'll talk in the morning.

"I love you." Is the last thing I hear as I let sleep pull me under once again.

When I wake again, I feel much stronger and much more alert. It is this time that I realize how grubby and gross I feel. My teeth feel like they're wearing a fuzzy sweater.

Disgusting.

I also notice how worn out Edward looks. He's asleep on a hard plastic chair and wearing a pair of faded blue scrubs.

"He hasn't left your side." The nurse says gently as she checks my vitals. "You have a good man there."

I can only nod my head in agreement. "Do you think I could take a shower?" I croak out, desperate to get this grime off of me.

My throat is still scratchy, and it makes me sound like a ninety year old smoker.

The nurse smiles kindly, and says that she'll send some help in shortly.

I was hoping to have showered before Edward woke up, but that plan is thwarted when his phone rings loudly.

He groans as he fishes the device from his pocket, and answers without ever opening his eyes.

"Edward Cullen."

His deep, gritty, sleepy voice is so damn sexy.

He reaches up to yank on his hair, and then sits forward in the chair with his elbow on his knees. "Check every single one, goddammit. He couldn't have vanished without a fucking trace. That's what I pay you for. Christ!"

He tosses his phone onto the side table, and cradles his head in his hands. He looks exhausted. I reach out to touch his hair, and his head snaps up to look at me with wide, tired eyes. "Hey, baby. How are you feeling?"

"Gross."

He smiles at my petulance just as the nurse tech comes in to help me shower. "Go home and shower, rest, eat, and then come back to me. I feel much better, and I'm going to be poked and prodded all morning."

"I don't want to leave you."

"I know. But you need to…just for a couple of hours. I need you healthy and alert. I'm okay, Edward. I'll be taken care of while you're gone."

He doesn't say anything, but he types away on his phone. He kisses me once, twice, three times before the nurse follows me into the bathroom. When I emerge, Carlisle and Esme are seated around the bed.

My thoughtful, sweet, stubborn man.

"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" Esme is up out of her chair in an instant to embrace me. "We were worried sick about you!"

"I'm okay now. I feel much better." I slide into the hospital bed, thankful for the robe the nurse gave me. The last thing I want to do is flash Carlisle and Esme my goodies.

We chat for a bit about the club, and how everyone sends their well wishes. But they change the subject every time I ask about the fire. When I finally get pissed, Carlisle states that he'd rather have Edward fill me in. I can understand that. It doesn't quell my curiosity, though.

I thankfully don't have to wait long because Edward comes back within the hour, freshly showered, and carrying a tote bag and a to-go meal. "I thought I told you to rest?"

He leans over, and kisses me full on the mouth, effectively shutting me up. "Minty."

I pucker up for another kiss, but not before giving him the stink eye. He sighs, and then adds, "I'll rest when you come home."

This, of course, brings on a fresh wave of tears. I don't understand why I've been so emotional today. Thankfully, Esme gets up to dab at my face with a tissue as Carlisle asks Edward if he has any news.

"Any news about what?" I'm quick to interrupt.

Edward produces my favorite yoga pants, a tank top, and a cashmere wrap sweater, and then comes over to help me out of the bed. "Let's get you out of this hospital gown; as ravishing as it looks on you, I don't want to tempt the staff."

I completely ignore his attempt at flirting, and focus on Carlisle's words. "News about what?" I'm more forceful this time, and it earns me a huff of annoyance from him.

"I'll explain everything after you eat, all right?"

At the mention of food, I realize that I'm starving.

"Okay."

I'm a tiny bit disappointed to find soup and bread, but I can understand it. At least it's gourmet soup and not hospital soup.

Edward sits next to me on the bed, and plays with the ends of my hair absently, and chats with Carlisle while I eat. I'm surprised, but deeply touched when Ed and Liz show up not long after.

Liz comes straight to my bedside, and wraps me in her motherly love, effectively shoving Edward aside. "Oh, sweetheart, we've been worried sick! I'm so glad you're all right." she kisses my temple and then my head as she sits where Edward was.

Motherly affection us just what I need in that moment, so I easily melt into her embrace.

Ed comes up on the other side to wrap his strong arms around us both, and drops a kiss to the top of my head. "We're glad you're okay, kiddo."

Liz releases me, but continues to fuss over me, which I don't mind one bit. I've never really had a mother to do that, and I have to admit, it's really nice.

"Will you fill me in now?"

Edward's eyes are so sad when he starts talking. "The fire," He swallows deeply before continuing, "It wasn't an accident. It was intentional. Arson."

My hand flies to cover my mouth.

 _Intentional?_ "My stuff?"

"There's nothing left, baby. I'm so sorry." A choked sob tears from my chest as I try to process his words. "Nothing? But what about my pictures? My photo albums? That's all I have left of my parents!"

He shakes his head no, darting to my side, and wrapping his arms around me as I crumble into sobs. I cry for my lost memories, I cry for my lost childhood, I cry for neglectful parents, and for living an adolescence feeling unloved and unwanted. But, mostly, I cry for the here and now. I cry for my losses, but I also cry for the amazing people I have in my life now. I know that I can survive anything with them by my side.

Burrowed deeply in Edward's arms, I realize that I don't need anything from my past life. Not even a few photos. I have my life, and I have the man that I want to live it with; I couldn't possibly need anything more than that.

I pull back to look into those deep emerald eyes, and I know that everything is going to be okay.

"I'm sorry for the outburst. I'm okay. I'm alive, and I'm healthy, and most of my belongings were at your house anyway. Thank goodness I only took an old clutch to the restaurant that night, so my new purse survived at your house. My ID, though… I'll have to replace that."

I sigh deeply, because, although I have a better outlook on the situation now, losing everything is still overwhelming.

Not to mention…

"Wait. You said the fire was intentional. Does that mean that someone was trying to _kill_ me?"

My heart is beating so hard that it feels like it's going to beat right out of my chest.

"We don't know for sure. The only thing we do know is that Aro is a suspect, and that he's skipped town."

"Oh, God."

"The police are looking for him, and I've got a team of private investigators searching as well. We _will_ find him, Bella. I promise. I'll keep you safe."

"And you've got us, too, kiddo. We're not gonna let anything happen to you." Ed's reassurance means so much to me.

Liz speaks up just then, "All right, that's enough. Let's give these two a chance to rest." She flits around the room, refills my water jug, and then grabs her purse before coming back over to me.

"We'll be back tomorrow, sweet girl. Get some rest." She hugs me fiercely as she adds, "We love you, Isabella."

"I love you, too." Fresh tears accompany my declaration, and I feel like I can't possibly produce anymore.

That theory is proven wrong, of course, when Angela and Ben stop by a couple of hours later. Especially when Angela tells me that Ben got a fantastic job offer in Phoenix, and that they're going to take it. I'm happy for her, but, I'll admit that it feels like the last of my childhood is gone in that moment. We used to be pretty close, but now it feels like we're worlds apart. It's difficult to find anything to talk about without it resulting in an awkward and stilted conversation. It doesn't help that she obviously doesn't approve of my relationship with Edward. It's okay, though; I wish her the best because she deserves it.

The next few weeks pass in a blur of breathing treatments, statements with police, meetings with Carlisle and Ed, and, of course, countless doctors' appointments. Edward has been wonderful. He's been my rock; my shoulder to lean on in every way. There's still no word on Aro's whereabouts, and, because of that, Edward hardly lets me out if his sight. I don't mind too much if we're being honest, because I don't really want him out of mine.

Tonight is my first night back at work, and I have to admit that I'm a little nervous. I have the car service pick me up a little early so that I can reorganize my station, and re-familiarize myself with the club.

I'm not surprised, but deeply touched by the warm welcome that I receive from the girls, and am happy when even Jacob comes in to see me before my shift. By the time I get into my costume, I'm feeling much more like myself, and snap a quick mirror selfie to send to my man.

I know he'll be by after work, but I still want to give him a little peepshow. It's been three weeks since he's been inside me, and I can't take another night. He's going to cave. I'm going to make sure of it.

I appreciate that he's looking out for my wellbeing, but I have needs, you know? Like I said, I'll make him cave if it's the last thing I do.

By the time the first couple of hours pass, my feet are killing me, but I'm definitely back in my groove. I'm having a great time chatting and catching up with regulars that I almost miss when Edward and Carlisle get there.

Esme is working their section today, and I'm kind of grateful to get a breather. She's been hovering all night. I know she's just concerned about me, though, so I can't fault her too much.

I make my way over to say hello, but I can't stay long because we're pretty busy. Maggie does come by, though, and makes a joke about being glad she doesn't have to deal with the grouch, which makes me laugh. Especially because it's been a month since he's gotten any kind of action, so he's extra grumpy these days, if that's even possible.

When my lunch hour rolls around, I stop by Edward's table to say goodbye. I promise to walk out with someone, to be aware of my surroundings, and I promise to be safe, all while trying desperately not to roll my eyes.

He's such a nag.

Finally, the end of my shift comes, and I'm once again reminded of why I love my job and all of the people that I work with at the club.

The house is dark when I get there, save for the entryway light that I know Edward left on just for me. I lock the door behind me, and head up the large spiral staircase to our second floor bedroom.

Edward is up and reading on his laptop when I open the door. He looks up at me as I head toward the massive closet, and drop my bag on the floor.

I quickly change into one of Edward's shirts, and then head to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

He's put his laptop away by the time I make it to bed, and I waste no time snuggling up against him.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Edward says as his hand descends down to cup my butt. That man is _always_ touching my butt, I swear. I don't answer with words, but, instead, climb half on top of him to place a wet, open mouthed kiss on his neck while palming the huge bulge in his pants.

"Wow, I'm going to demand to always be greeted like this." His voice is husky as he turns his head to give me better access to his neck.

Again, I don't answer, I just move my mouth across his prickly jaw, and press my tongue between his lips.

He shifts me to straddle him, and continues to kiss me as he reaches between us to undo the buttons of the shirt I'm wearing. When he finally pushes it off my shoulders, he pushes me to sit up.

"Let me look at you." His deep, velvet voice is gritty, and his gorgeous eyes are filled with lust as he takes in my naked body on display only for him.

He reaches up to cup my cheek, and then he drags his long, elegant fingers gently down my throat, and over my breast, softly brushing over my hardened nipple. I moan at his feather light touch, and grind my hips against him, but he merely grips the top of my thighs, stopping my movements.

 _Always in control._

He drags his thumbs along the crease of my thighs and along my folds, spreading my arousal all around.

He watches intently as his thumb circles my clit a few times. I can feel him hard beneath me, but he's got me pinned, so I can't really move. Just when I think I can't take anymore, he threads his hands under my thighs, and scoots me forward until I'm straddling his face.

I reach out to grasp the headboard for balance, and my face flames at the position we're in. I'm no virgin, but I've also never straddled anyone's face before. I really don't have too much time to worry about it, however, because he licks me from one end to the other.

He's got his hands full of my ass, and his mouth full of well… me, and I can't find it in myself to hold on to the embarrassment. It just feels too damn good. Especially when he uses his hands to encourage me to move.

Before long, I'm riding his face and enjoying every minute of it. The scratchiness of his beard, along with the way he uses his lips and wiggles his tongue have me a panting mess. There's an ache deep inside of me, and it can only be quelled by this man.

After riding the blissful wave of my orgasm, I move away from his mouth, and am incredibly turned on when I notice the way my arousal glistens on his mouth and chin.

I lean down to kiss him, and moan at the combination of our flavors as they explode on my tongue. I kiss him deeper, feeling as though I want to crawl inside of him, and stay safe there forever.

He smoothly turns us over, and I immediately wrap my arms and legs around him. We haven't been together this way since we confessed our love, and it feels so big in this moment that I think I might burst with it.

I squeeze my eyes shut when he drags his nose along my jaw, and kisses my neck. I moan again when he sucks my nipple into his mouth, and shifts to line us up. He lifts his head as he releases it with a pop.

"Look at me, baby."

My focus is clouded by tears, but I can see the seriousness and tenderness reflected in his eyes.

Tears spill over when he pushes inside with a groan, and I instinctively tighten my arms and legs around him.

He drops his forehead to mine, and squeezes his eyes shut against the overwhelming sensation.

"I love you, Isabella. I love you so much it hurts."

I cry out from the weight of his words, along with the weight of his body. I'm completely filled. Filled with emotion and filled with his flesh until there's no more room. I'm suffocating in him; I love every second of it.

I can feel his love in every thrust and I can feel his commitment in every caress. I kiss him with every shred of emotion I have in my body, trying to convey my feelings. I need him to feel what I feel. I need him know that I am his, just as he is mine.

The electricity surrounding us feels like a live wire as he presses harder and deeper inside of me. At this point, we aren't even kissing anymore, just sharing breath. It's the single most intimate act I've ever experienced.

He reaches down to hitch my thigh up a little higher, and he hits the most delicious spot inside of me. I claw at his back as he hits it again and again. It's just too much, until it isn't, and I'm drowning in ecstasy. Three more quick thrusts, and Edward follows with a deep, guttural groan.

When I regain some of my strength, I tighten my arms around him again, not wanting to lose the closeness. He seems to understand because he reciprocates.

Tucking the blankets around us, in a state of bliss, we allow sleep to overtake us, wrapped tightly in each other's arms.

* * *

Looks like Bella's move into her new apartment got delayed...but I hope you're all glad that she's okay! Who do you think started that fire? Was it Aro? Where do you think he's hiding out? Should Bella still move into her apartment?

I love to hear your thoughts and theories!

Love you! Laila xx


	14. Chapter 14

Hello lovlies! I can't believe that we are halfway done with this story *insert cry face* I have to thank you for your continued support. I love to write and I love these characters, but it's really nice to have people to share them with. You guys make me want to continue to write, you guys make me want to share my stories with the world. I love you all dearly for that.

As always I have to thank my Beta princess07890 for going on this journey with me. Good luck on Wednesday, boo!

Yo, check out the Pintrest board! Just search: The Bunny Ranch

Let's be friends on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook too! lailabents or Laila Bentz (lol nothing fancy)

I don't own this.

* * *

 **~Edward ~**

Eight weeks, and we still haven't heard a word about Aro's whereabouts. Saying I've been a complete asshole to everyone who isn't Bella is an understatement of epic fucking proportions.

The upside to the situation is that Bella has been in my home, in my bed, for three months. There's no way that I'm letting her go now. It goes without saying that moving into her apartment has been put on hold, indefinitely if I have it my way.

I can't say that I mind one fucking bit. We've settled into a routine, and I love every second of it.

Leaving my sleeping angel to get a few more minutes of sleep, I head to the shower to get ready for the day.

She had her last breathing treatment yesterday, and the doctor gave her a clean bill of health. It's been three months since the fire, and he says she won't have any lasting effects. I'm so thankful for that.

We will be attending the first annual Orphan's Hope Benefit Ball this evening. It's a charity that my mother immediately started on Bella's behalf upon hearing her story. I can tell you that there were many tears that day, and it's a cause that the two most important women in my life have bonded immensely over. My mother is in awe of Bella's resilience and strength, given the childhood circumstances she endured.

As if Bella wasn't busy enough, she's been working with my mother almost daily to not only get the organization up and running, but also to plan this event. Bella loves her job as a Bunny and has no intentions to leave it, but she's finally found something to be a part of that she's passionate about. I can't even begin to express how proud I am.

After I shower, I head down to make myself some coffee. I scroll through my phone and check my messages while the coffee brews, and come across a message from Kate. She's called several times over the past few weeks, but I haven't gotten around to call her back. I've just been so busy. I'll get to it eventually.

I feel a perfectly slender set of arms slide around my waist as I top off my cup. She presses a kiss to my spine, and holds me for a moment before making her way to the fridge to get a glass of juice.

My eyes about bug out of my head when I catch a glimpse of the pajamas she's put on. Holy hell.

She's wearing a red, romper-like-sweater-onesie thing that's long sleeve, but doesn't even cover half of her ass. It's the oddest, yet sexiest sight.

Unable to help myself, I move behind her, and grab two handfuls of that bubbly, juicy ass. It's so soft and malleable that I groan at the way the soft flesh feels in my hands.

I lean down to suck softly at the exposed skin of her neck, and she grinds her ass against me in response.

My hands roam her hips and thighs as she turns her head to kiss me, giving me full access to her hot, sweet mouth. She reaches up to tangle her small hand in my hair and tugs, making me impossibly hard.

I don't know what it is about this woman. I've always had a healthy sex life. Maybe not the most adventurous partners, but regular nonetheless. But, Bella? She's something else entirely. I've gone from wanting sex two or three times a week, to two or three times _a day_. I just can't get enough of her. I can _never_ get enough of her. And it doesn't help that's she's always all over me. To be honest, I've never been with such an affectionate person. I never knew that _I_ was such an affectionate person. Until now. I always find myself wanting to touch her, even in the most innocent of ways.

There's nothing innocent about the way I'm touching her now.

I spin her around to face me, and then easily lift her up to sit on the edge of the counter. She lets out a squeal of laughter at the suddenness of my movements, but then quickly wraps her arms and legs around me, letting her hands roam my bare torso.

My hands slide up her shapely thighs as I slide my tongue into her mouth, tasting her thoroughly. I wrap my arm around her back to hold her weight as I unbutton the jumper and start kissing my way down her neck and chest. My free hand works its way under the fabric of her shorts and slides along her hot, wet flesh. I suck one of her pert, pink nipples into my mouth as I work two fingers inside of her. I groan at the fresh wave of arousal that floods my hand when I bite down on her sensitive flesh, and I know, in that moment, that I've got to have that essence on my tongue.

Now, I've never been a selfish lover. I willingly went down on my past lovers, but I've never wanted to constantly eat pussy the way I do now. I literally _crave_ her flavor. I can't get enough. I mean, obviously, if I, admittedly one of the most conservative men alive, am willing to feast on her spread out on the kitchen counter. It's like a fucking drug to me, I swear. I would've never initiated something like this in the past.

I make my way back to her mouth as I start pulling the ridiculous garment from her delectable body, and she starts unbuttoning my jeans when we hear a loud gasp.

"My God! What is going on in here?"

Startled, we both look toward the sound to find Kate standing in the entrance to our kitchen with her hand over her heart, and her eyes about to bug out of her overly Botoxed face.

"What the fuck, Kate?" I snap at our intruder as I try to close the jumper to cover Bella's exposed tits. "How the fuck did you get in here?" She looks taken aback by the venom in my voice, and the glare I'm shooting her way.

Her eyes stay trained on Bella as she sasses back, "You didn't honestly think that was the only copy of the key I had, did you?" She tries to laugh it off, but it's obvious that she's uncomfortable. "Besides, I've been calling you for weeks. I was worried." Her blue eyes flick over to me before she adds, "I suppose you want this key as well?"

She holds the keyring out on her index finger, in challenge. Bella closes the last button on her jumpsuit before turning to look at Kate from over her shoulder, "That's not necessary, Kate. We'll just go ahead, and change the locks. The unexpected visits are getting old."

Kate's eyes narrow at Bella's insinuation, and I have to fight the smile that tries to form on my lips.

I'm unsuccessful.

Bella looks back at me, and rolls her eyes before hopping off the counter. "I'll let you and the cockblock talk. I'll be in the other room if you need me." She gathers her long hair up on top of her head with an elastic as she saunters past our guest. "Kate."

I smirk at her calm outward demeanor, and Kate watches her retreat from the room, obviously staring at her ass. I raise my eyebrow when Kate finally looks back to me.

"What do you want, Kate?" I can't keep the exasperation, nor the irritation out of my voice.

She ignores my question, and opts to throw verbal jabs at me instead. "What's going on with you, Edward? This isn't you." She makes a show of gesturing toward the counter with her face pinched up as if she's smelled something rotten. "The Edward I know would never even think of holding someone's hand, much less walk around half naked, fornicating on the kitchen counter with a child! My goodness, are you going through a midlife crisis or something? Do we need to get you some help? That girl has her whole bottom hanging out of those shorts! How can you be comfortable letting her walk around like that?"

I can't help it; I laugh. I laugh so hard that my stomach hurts, and tears leak from my eyes.

"Have you gone mad? What on earth are you laughing about?" Kate whisper shouts as she reaches up to smooth her hair, which only makes the situation more comical.

"If you couldn't tell, I'm kind of in the middle of something I'd really like to get back to; so, if you don't mind, this conversation is going to have to wait until after my uh… breakfast." I give her a wolfish grin just to get under her skin.

"You're disgusting, Edward Cullen. And, no, this cannot wait." She's truly put off by me, and I'm glad. Maybe now she'll get the fuck out of my house, and leave me the fuck alone.

I breeze past her toward the front door, ready to show her out when her words stop me in my tracks.

"I got a very interesting call from a Victoria Carmichael, asking for a financial investor for Twilight Telecommunications, and offering a seat on the board in return. You can imagine that got my attention. It seems that Cullen Enterprises has halted the acquisition of the company, which is an interesting turn of events." She walks past me, her heels clacking on the marble floor, "But, if you're too busy, I suppose we can discuss this later. Or you can discuss it with my lawyer, whichever you prefer." She looks over her shoulder at me as she reaches for the door, "See you at the benefit."

I slam the door shut before she gets a chance to open it completely. "I'm not a man you want to fuck with, Kate." If she thought I was pissed before, that's nothing compared to how I'm feeling now.

She looks up at me from under her lashes as she answers coyly, "I've fucked you plenty." My answering glare is enough to let her know that I have no patience for her bullshit today, so she adds quickly, "But you just didn't do it for me; thank God for Garrett."

"Kate." There's a warning tone in my voice that even Kate knows not to push me past.

Her defenses drop at my warning, but I know better than to think I've won this battle.

"I'll be in touch."

With those last words, she leaves. When did Kate become such a drama queen? Bella's right, we've got to change the fucking locks.

By the time I hunt my girl down, she's already out of the shower. Her long dark hair looks like ink dripping down her back. It's gorgeous.

"Hey, baby." I mumble against her neck. She tilts her head to give me better access, but bats my hands away when I reach for her boobs.

"Did you know that the only food to never spoil is honey?"

I shake my head no, but don't stop my assault on her neck.

"Just a bit of trivia for you." She giggles as she continues, "I have to be at the salon by one if I'm to be ready by five." I drop my head to her shoulder, and groan at the fact that we really were cockblocked.

"Let me put a shirt on, and I'll drive you."

She twists her hair back up into a knot on top of her head, "Okay."

She follows me into the closet, and throws on some yoga pants and a flannel top. I don't know how she manages to make even that look sexy, but she does. She rises up on her tiptoes with a shy little smile, and kisses me when she catches me staring.

I drop her off at the salon, and, after a very inappropriate goodbye kiss, I head to my office. I've got a few hours to kill, and I'm curious about the offer that Victoria presented to Kate.

Kate is well aware of how ruthless I can be so I'd be surprised if she took the bait, but I want to be fully prepared in any case. I call both my father and Carlisle as soon as I get to my desk, and relay what Kate told me. They are both pissed, as expected, and immediately start coming up with a game plan about how to handle her.

Kate definitely has the wealth to back Victoria, but not the business savvy. Of course, I'm sure there are other players involved, we just need to find out who, which is our top priority. It goes without saying, however, that they can't do anything without Bella's consent, as she is the third owner of the company.

I'm not worried about the business, per se, I'm more worried about what Victoria involving Kate implies.

We've got to get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, I've got to pick up my lady.

I arrive at the salon just as the stylist is finishing up with Bella's hair, which is fixed into long curls flowing down her back. She looks beautiful, and I don't hesitate to tell her so.

We leave the salon hand in hand, and I help her into the car, like the gentleman I was raised to be. When we get to the house, I run up to shower, and change, while she puts on her dress and does whatever else women do to get ready for these things.

I head downstairs to have a glass of scotch before the car gets here; I'm just finishing it off when an angel comes down the stairs.

Now, I've seen Bella dressed up before, and I've seen her sexed up for work, I've seen her casual, and I've seen her first thing in the morning. She's beyond beautiful in every situation, but, tonight, as I see her coming toward me in that light, flowing, dove grey dress, my heart skips a beat.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach when she catches my eye, and I know, in that moment, without a shadow of a doubt, that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I also know that I need to keep that realization to myself. Which is kind of sad really, because I'm beyond ready to be her husband.

"What?" Bella reaches up, and cups my jaw with so much love and tenderness shining in her beautiful brown eyes.

I shake my head to dislodge the question threatening to jump from my lips, and press a kiss to her forehead instead. "You are stunning, my love."

"Do you like it? It's a little more conservative than I usually go for…" She trails off, unsure of how to finish her sentence.

"It's perfect. You're perfect." And I mean it. She's perfect to me. She's perfect _for_ me. This must have been what it was like for my father when he met my mother.

I've been with plenty of women, but no one has ever made me feel the things that this girl has. Six months together doesn't seem like much, but it's more than enough to know exactly what I want.

When we arrive at the event, we walk the small red carpet hand in hand, and pose for photographers. Bella is sweet and charming, and gets her fair share of attention which doesn't surprise me at all. She's magnetic.

Once we make it inside, we find our table with my family. The inside of the venue is spectacular, of course. This is my mother's forte, but I'm especially proud of the work that Bella has put into the occasion.

They get along so well. This is apparent when my mother completely ignores me, and embraces Bella as soon as she sees us. She then takes her by the hand, and whisks her away to introduce her to all of my mother's uppity friends, much to my dismay.

I chat with dad and Carlisle for a bit as I scan the room, and waste no time making my way over when I find her. My mother is introducing her to Gillian O'Malley, one of the wealthiest, most well respected, most well connected women in Chicago. And, by the looks of it, Gillian is putty in Bella's hands, just like the rest of us.

"May I have this dance?" I'm as polite as possible as interrupt their chat, but I just can't wait another minute to have her in my arms.

Bella smiles widely as she slides her fingertips into my proffered hand, and I can hear Gillian say to my mother in the background, "Lizzy, what a lovely couple!"

I smirk at Gillian's words as I lead my lady out to the dance floor. Sliding my arm around her tiny waist, I pull her close to me, and rest our folded hands against my chest.

We sway softly as Etta James croons in the background, and, for the first time in a very long time, I allow myself to truly relax, and enjoy the moment. We dance through two more songs before Bella informs me that she needs to visit the ladies' room.

I lead us back to our table, and then watch her walk away towards the lavatory.

"She's special to you." It's not a question that comes from my father's mouth. I glance over at him, and then fix my gaze back on her, "Very. I'm going to marry that woman."

"Oh?" My father's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline with his response.

"Not anytime soon, unfortunately." I fail to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

"She said no?"

"Nah. I haven't asked her, and I don't plan to any time soon."

"Why not?" There's no judgement in his tone, only genuine concern.

"She's not ready." The answer seems so obvious to me.

"She's told you this?" Again, only curiosity.

I rub the stubble on my jaw, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation has taken. "Not exactly, but she's so young, and she's got a lot going on right now. She doesn't need any added pressure or complications."

My father nods his head at my answer, and is quiet for a long moment. It just starts to get awkward when he finally speaks.

"I know you're a grown man, and I realize that you've been married before, but I just want to give you a word of advice, father to son." I look over at him because there's a seriousness in his voice that I haven't heard in years. His gaze flits over to the hallway that leads to the restrooms, and then back to me before he continues, "Don't make unilateral decisions for your relationship. Don't assume that you know what's best for her. Isabella is a strong woman, son. If she's not ready, she'll tell you. But, please, have enough respect for her, hell, for yourself, to give her the opportunity to make her own decisions, and to speak for herself. Your mother and I raised you better than that."

His words are not condescending in any way, but they're still like a punch to the gut. They certainly give me plenty to think about, I'll admit.

I don't get much time to ponder these thoughts, however, because Chelsea walks up as my father departs placing her hand on my shoulder. "Hey, handsome."

She's got everything on display in her too tight, too revealing, black dress.

I look up at her, and then pointedly look at her hand on my shoulder before looking back up to her. She blushes, but removes her hand and awkwardly fidgets with her handbag. When the silence starts to get uncomfortable, she finally speaks again, "I'm sorry about the way we left things the last time we saw each other."

She must have a death wish as she reaches up to run her fingers through my hair, because Bella approaches the table at the same moment. It's nearly comical the way that Bella reaches out to grab Chelsea's hand before it makes contact. She turns the gesture into an awkward handshake, but her intention is clear.

I speak up before Bella says anything, standing to wrap my arm around her. "Chelsea, this is Bella. The love of my life." Chelsea's eyes betray her surprise at my declaration, and Bella's shoulders visibly relax. Although, it's obvious that's she's realized who Chelsea is, and is sizing her up.

"Thank you for the introduction, babe." Bella smiles sweetly as she wraps her arms around my waist, but I notice that she doesn't acknowledge Chelsea. I also know Bella well enough to know that she's annoyed… with _me_.

Thankfully, Chelsea doesn't linger, but, as soon as she walks away, Bella's demeanor turns a little frosty. She not so subtly moves away from me, and becomes very interested in her phone.

"What's wrong, baby?" I reach out to brush her hair off of her shoulder, and she brushes me off, which pisses me the fuck off. I'm just about to tell her so when she speaks with a forced smile.

"Let's talk about it later, okay?" I don't get to argue because my parents return right then, and Bella immediately engages my mother in conversation.

It feels like the entire fucking world is against me, because, not a moment later, Kate walks up, and places her hand on my father's shoulder.

"Ed, Liz! I'm so happy to see you. It's been far too long." My mother smiles, and stands to hug her.

"You look fabulous, Kate. That dress is exquisite!"

Kate smiles as she responds, "Always trying to impress, Mama Cullen."

That comment seems to make Bella even more uncomfortable, if that's even possible. She reaches up to rub the back of her neck, but keeps a phony smile plastered on her face.

I'm shocked when she speaks up. "Seeing you twice in the same day, what a treat." The sarcasm is evident in her voice, which seems to make the situation even more awkward than it already was.

It's enough to peak my mother's interest, however. "Twice?"

Bella takes a sip from her wine glass, and Kate narrows her eyes at her before jumping into the story. "Ah, yes. I stopped by the house this morning to discuss a business opportunity with Edward. Imagine my embarrassment when I walked into the kitchen only to catch them in a compromising position." She cups her hand by her mouth as she says the last part as if she's trying to keep a secret. She presses her hand to her chest, and laughs as if announcing to the entire table that she walked in on an intimate moment between Bella and me is a good idea.

Bella's gasps and her face flushes red, clearly mortified, and I stand to grab Kate by the arm to have a word with her when my mother saves the day.

She winks at Bella before speaking, "I feel like every uninvited guest who so rudely barges into someone else's home should always get a show like that. Don't you agree, Ed?"

Kate jumps in before my dad gets a chance to agree, "I was actually going to call you, and get your advice on this business deal as well, Ed."

I can tell he's annoyed, but he acknowledges her anyway. "Oh?"

"Yes. I've been asked to provide financial backing for a seat on the board of Twilight Telecommunications. It sounds like a fantastic opportunity, but, of course, I value your opinion and would never make a decision like that without your seal of approval."

If I thought Bella was frosty; my mother is the ice queen. The moment Kate reveals her offer, my parents' demeanor changes dramatically.

"I know that you're aware of Edward's interest and involvement in that company, Kate. My only advice to you, is that it would be in your best interest to stay out of that situation. It's never wise to go against Edward, and it would be even worse to go against _me_."

I glance over at Bella, and see that her eyes are moist with tears as she grasps my mother's hand, and looks at my father like he hung the moon.

"I didn't realize that you were involved, Ed." Kate looks between my father and me quizzically.

"If it involves my family, it involves me. I'm involved because of our sweet Bella, and I believe that's all you need to know. Have a nice evening, Kate."

With those words, he effectively dismisses her. She appears taken aback, but scurries away with no further prompting.

"That twit." My mother's voice is full of venom.

"Come on, Lizzy, let's leave these two to talk. How about a whirl on the dance floor?"

My mother kisses Bella on the head before slipping her hand in my father's. That's not to say she doesn't throw a scalding look in my direction as he leads her away.

Once we're alone, I take Bella's hand and place a kiss to her knuckles. "Please talk to me, baby."

She lets out a heavy sigh, and glances around us before speaking, "I don't appreciate having to smile, and pretend that I'm fine with the fact that your ex-wife feels like she can just come into our house whenever she feels like it. I also don't enjoy having to smile, and pretend like watching your ex-girlfriend put her hands on you doesn't bother me. I know that I have no reason to be insecure, Edward, and I'm not saying that you encourage their behavior in any way, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't still hurt me."

She looks so sad, so _defeated_. I open my mouth to reassure her, because the last thing I ever want to do is hurt her, but she doesn't give me a chance to speak.

"How would you feel if I had an ex that was always around? How would you feel if any man put his hands on me, much less a man that I'd been intimate with?"

I close my eyes, and clench my jaw at the mere thought of any bastard touching what is mine. But the selfish thought dissipates as quickly as it comes as soon as I realize that I've put the woman I love in that _exact_ situation.

I feel like a complete jackass, and I need to fix it. The only question I have as I look into the depths of those beautiful brown eyes is…

 _How?_

* * *

Oh, Edward. How do you think he can fix this? Should he bite the bullet and ask her to marry him? What do you think Aro is up to? What about Kate? Do you think she knows what she's getting into?

I can't wait to hear your thoughts.

Lots of love, Laila xx


	15. Chapter 15

Hello there! Wow...I can't believe that we are already at nearly 1000 reviews. Thank you all so much for all of the support and love. You really make my life.

If you are interested in seeing pics and visuals go check out the Pintrest board. Just search: The Bunny Ranch

Let's be friends on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter! It's either Laila Bentz or lailabentz

Thank you so much to my beta princess07890. I couldn't do this without you. I'm praying everyday for Jeopardy!

I own noting but a giant mosquito bite that is driving me nuts...

* * *

 **~Edward~**

I reach up to tuck a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear and caress her cheek. She instinctively leans into my touch, which is a good sign.

"We'll change the locks tomorrow. First thing."

She looks up at me with those big, doe like eyes, "Yes, we will. But it's not the actual locks that are the issue. It's the fact that she thinks that it's okay to just walk right in whenever she wants. It's the fact that she's still comfortable enough to do it in the first place; that you've allowed her to believe that she's within her rights to do so.

"I'm not saying that I don't want you guys to get along. I'm just saying that it would be nice if you clarified boundaries with her. I shouldn't feel uncomfortable or like I'm in the way in my own home."

She's absolutely right. I've allowed Kate to just waltz in and out of my life over the last three years, and I never addressed the issue when I realized that I was serious about Bella. I never once thought about how Kate's affinity for just popping up would affect her.

Christ.

"Don't get me wrong, Edward, I know that you love me, and I trust you. I really do. I guess today I just felt a little less permanent in your life than I'd thought I was, or hoped to be. I know we haven't really talked about the future beyond wanting to be together, but I just assumed…"

She looks down at her nails before looking back up to me to continue, "I was jealous. I was jealous and possessive, because I'm completely invested in you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the mother of your children. I want you to think of me as part of your family because you _are_ mine. You, Ed, and Liz. Even Carlisle and Esme. You're my family. I'm sorry if it seems fast, and I promise I don't mean to pressure you or anything, I just let my feelings get the best of me tonight. Forgive me?"

I can't help it. I pull her into my lap, and hold on to her like she's my lifeline. Every doubt I had, she's squashed with a single speech. She not only wants to marry me, she wants children, too. She wants _my_ children. I swear all of my desires are real possibilities, now and it's all because of the angel in my arms.

"I love you so much, Isabella Marie. You are everything to me. You're all I want. You're all I need. Please forgive me for being such a jackass. I should've really set Kate straight a long time ago. It was disrespectful, and I apologize.

"And, with Chelsea, I should've been more definitive. She should've never thought she could put her hands on me. I'm sorry for that."

She melts into me with my words, leaning down to kiss my lips in forgiveness. I can't let the most important thing she said go unacknowledged, however.

"As far as permanence goes. If I thought for one second that I could get away with it, I would have you on a plane to Las Vegas tonight."

She continues to stroke the stubble on my cheek as she looks me dead in the eye, "Who says you can't?"

There's honesty, conviction, and longing in her deep, dark eyes, and I want more than anything to do it. My conscience gets the better of me, though. "You deserve better than that, baby. I vow to give you everything; all the bells and whistles. The dress, the ring, the reception. Everything."

She rests her forehead against mine as she argues, "You know I don't need all of that. I just need _you_."

I hold her even tighter as I reply the only way I know how, "You have me, Bunny Blue. You already have me."

She looks a little disappointed so I rush to explain, "Let me do this right, baby. Please let me do right by you."

She rests her head on my shoulder. "Don't make me wait long."

I close my eyes against the onslaught on emotion, because this is really happening. How in the world did I get so goddamn lucky?

Still holding Bella in my lap, I look out to the dance floor, and catch my father's eye. He raises his eyebrow in question, and I send him a subtle thumbs up.

"How long would you need to plan an actual wedding?"

She gets up from my lap, and tugs me to stand. "I'm not sure, but I'll talk to your mom about it. She'll know."

She tugs me toward the dance floor, looking happy and radiant once again. And this time, I disregard propriety, and wrap both of my arms around her. I hold her so close to me on that dance floor that not even air can fit between us.

We dance, drink, kiss, and laugh until the wee hours of the morning, when she finally looks at me with that very familiar hunger in her eyes, and begs, "Take me home, Edward."

We make out in the back of the limo like a couple of teenagers until the driver drops us off at home. I sweep her tiny form up into my arms, and carry her upstairs, attacking her mouth like I'm seventeen years old, only managing to stumble twice in my inebriated state. Thankfully, Bella only giggles when I do.

When we finally make it up to our room, I deposit her on the bed, and just stare at her. Christ, she's fucking beautiful. She kicks off her shoes, and then holds her arms out, reaching for me. "C'mere."

Her dimpled smile glints in the low light, and I'm momentarily distracted by it as I shrug out of my jacket and tie. "You're so beautiful."

"So are you. Now c'mere."

I don't know why I find her comment so funny, but I can't help but chuckle. Maybe it's the six glasses of champagne on top of the three glasses of scotch I've had. "You're supposed to think I'm rugged and manly." I accentuate my point by discarding my shirt as I straddle her hips, and flexing my arms and chest.

She laughs as she bats her eyes, "Oh, Edward, your muscles are so rugged. You're _so_ manly. Pummel me with your manly manhood."

"I'll show you just how manly my manhood is." She snorts at my bad joke, and I nip at her neck in retaliation. She moans loudly when I soothe the bite with the flat of my tongue, and the playful mood turns serious.

I pull back to look into her eyes, but she closes them against the rush of emotion. Even through the haze of alcohol, I can feel the intense connection between us. The pull that tells me that she is mine, just as I am hers. Why did I ever try to fight it?

I kiss her deeply, tasting every inch of her mouth. It's deep, wet, and sloppy, but I don't care. Our teeth clink together as I devour her mouth, and I only pull away briefly to rid her of her dress.

There's no slow and sensual buildup tonight. As soon as the dress is gone, I rip the delicate lace panties from her body. The action leaves a welt on the fair skin of her hip, and I feel kind of bad. But not entirely. I also feel extremely turned on by it. I brush my thumb over the faint red mark as I push inside of her tight, wet heat.

 _Christ_.

I pull out almost completely before pressing back in, hard. She moans loudly at the action, and I swivel my hips once I'm all the way in. She arches her back, and grasps the sheet, so I do it again.

"Yes, fuck… _uhngh_."

Her tits are shoved in my face, so I grab hold of one of those pert, pink nipples between my teeth. Repeating the action once more with my cock, I add the stimulation of biting down, and then sucking hard on the tender flesh. This earns me some noise I can't even distinguish.

"You like that, baby?"

I punctuate my question with another deep thrust.

" _Yesssssssss_."

I unwrap one of her long, shapely legs from around my waist, hoist it up over my shoulder, and then lean back a little so that I can see where we're joined.

Grabbing her hip with one hand, and her thigh with the other, I pull out slowly. My cock glistens as it slides out of her body, and I nearly ejaculate like a sixteen year old virgin at the sight of it.

I tense my body, and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment while I will my body back under control. Once I've calmed down, I focus back on her pretty pink pussy and the way my dick looks sliding deep inside of it.

" _Fuck_ ," I groan as it disappears once more.

My control is slipping, and I know that my girl is right on the edge. I drop her leg, and brace my hands on either side of her head. Her full, firm tits jiggle with every thrust, and it's a fucking beautiful sight.

She reaches up to hang onto my shoulders, angling her body just right as I pick up the pace. I'm chasing ecstasy for the both of us, and the fact that she's not holding back her vocal encouragement only spurs me on.

We are so fucking loud, and I love it. I can feel her tightening around me; I'm thankful, because I can't hang on a moment longer. She shatters around me with a silent scream, and I immediately follow.

I collapse into her waiting arms. I can honestly say that I've never felt so loved in my life. I don't care how big of pussy that makes me. I love her with all of my heart, and I will do everything in my power to make her the happiest woman in the world from this point forward.

She kisses me slowly and with so much passion, it's ridiculous. I really am the luckiest bastard alive.

We fall asleep completely wrapped around each other, and I can honestly tell you it's the best sleep I've had in months.

The next afternoon, as Bella gets ready for work, I call to have someone come out and change the locks. Bella thanks me several times before she leaves; one particularly thorough time on her knees.

Once she leaves, I call Vladimir at Cartier. He's done a few custom pieces for me in the past, and I'm hoping he can help me out now, on a time constraint. I want an exquisite ring for Bella, but I'm not willing to wait long for it.

Now that's she's made it clear that she wants to marry me, I want to get a ring on her finger as quick as humanly possible.

Vladimir answers right away, and, after I explain my situation, he agrees to make my project his only focus…for a price. I wouldn't expect anything less, and I'm definitely prepared to pay that price.

Bella is more than worth it.

Once I finish my call with Vladimir, I dial my mother. She squeals with excitement when I tell her that I've already ordered the rings and that we want to do it as soon as possible. Yes, I plan to wear a ring this time. Before, I never understood why men wore them, nor did I ever feel the need or desire to, but I just can't imagine _not_ wearing one for Bella.

"Oh, Edward, I'm so happy for you guys! I love Bella so much. She's perfect for you! This is truly amazing."

I smile at her words, even though she can't see me. "So, how long will you guys need to plan it? I'm talking the least amount of time possible."

"Wow. Well, I have a couple of designers that owe me favors, and I know that Gillian would love to help. Lord knows that woman has endless contacts.

"Have Bella call me in the morning; I'm gonna call Gillian right now, and then email my designer friends. Oh, we have so much to do! I'll call you when I have some options in place.

"And, Edward, make sure that ring is one that I'd approve of; this is the time to go all out. Our sweet girl is worth it."

I don't get a word in edgewise, but I can't complain, because I've officially got the ball rolling. Bella can take over from here.

Now all I have to do is sit back, and wait for the designs that Vladimir will be sending my way shortly. Once we finalize the design, he said it will take him about five to six days to actually make it. I'm paying for his exclusive time to commission the ring. A process that usually takes months will be accomplished in less than a week. It's good to be powerful and connected.

It's going to be unique, priceless, and positively breathtaking, just like her.

With my personal errands attended to, I manage to do a couple of hours of work, and have dinner before receiving the much anticipated email.

The first design is stunning, no doubt, but I just can't envision it on Bella's hand. The second gets the same reaction from me, and I'm a little annoyed at how wrong Vladimir has gotten it. The third ring, however; the third ring is fucking perfect.

An eight carat, cushion cut diamond with a pave diamond halo and wide, intricate band. The only thing I want to change is to make it two toned metal, with platinum and yellow gold.

I email him back with my requested changes, and then try to think of a way to get an accurate size. I guess I can do it while she's asleep.

The rest of my evening drags, and I'm tempted to head to the club, but I resist. She's working, and I distract her enough there. Instead, I decide to look up locations for a honeymoon. I know she won't be able to take too much time off of work, since she missed so much due to the fire but I still want to make it memorable.

I immediately toss around exotic locations, such as Tahiti or Fiji, but I also consider Paris or Rome. However, I just feel like a tropical location is cliché, and there's not enough time to properly enjoy Europe. Nantucket keeps coming to mind, but I'm just not sure. The last thing I want is to disappoint her on our honeymoon. I guess there's time to worry about that later, though. For now, I've just got to get that ring on her finger.

What an incredible turn my life has taken. I never thought I'd actually be getting married again. The crazy thing is that, this time, I know it'll last.

This is nothing like the relationship I had with Kate. Bella and I are perfect together. I finally understand what love is. Love isn't about how much power you have as a couple and love isn't what's convenient. Love isn't what kind of public statement you can make and love isn't how well matched socially and physically you are. And love isn't masking major parts of your personality for the sake of avoiding disagreement.

Bella is the one person who knows me inside and out, and loves me anyway. She accepts my flaws, just as she accepts my strengths. She couldn't care less about my wealth, but she doesn't reject it, either. She's also not afraid to tell me when I'm being an ass.

On the flip side, she's not afraid to show me who she is. I've seen her at her best, and I've seen her at her very worst, and I love her all the same.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for this woman; I've even stripped myself bare and laid all of my ugly truths out there because I know she loves me even more for them.

I take one more look at the sketch of the ring, and notice an email from my mother. When I open it, I have to smile.

There are four attached pictures from the benefit of Bella and me. Two from the red carpet and two of us dancing. Mom's email reads:

 _I don't have Bella's email. Please pass these along. You guys are stunning!_

 _P.S. Gillian is on board, and I already have a designer willing to rush a dress for us. Still tons to do!_

 _Love you,_

 _Mom_

I look closely at the photos, and notice how easily you can see the love flow between us. I look happy. Really fucking happy. And I am.

I'm already asleep when Bella gets home, but it's a comfort when I feel her cold feet press up against me.

When Monday rolls around, we take full advantage of Bella's day off. We have six different venues to look at; I'm going to try my best to keep my mouth shut because we all know that I'll automatically choose the venue that can get us in the fastest. I really don't care about the aesthetics.

I got an update from Vladimir this morning. He's already set the halo and one of the bands. Today, he'll work on the other, and, hopefully, the center diamond arrives today. If all goes well, I should have it by Wednesday, which is great because Wednesday is Bella's other day off. I'd love to take her out, and make my proposal special. I'd love to see if she can get her Thursday and Friday shifts covered, and take off to Nantucket. A proposal on the water as the sun sets in a place that I love, and hope she'll love as well sounds just about perfect.

"Okay, let's go." Bella comes rushing down the stairs in a white sundress and tan leather sandals. Her face looks fresh and natural, and her hair is hanging in loose waves down her back.

Her dress reminds me of what she wore on my thirty-ninth birthday. It was a white dress, not too different from what she's wearing now. I was loathe to celebrate getting even older, but she managed to make it the best birthday I've ever had. That was exactly two months ago, and she was still really struggling to breathe. It's hard to believe that it's already August. The time has flown by. It worries me that we still haven't found Aro, but I'm not about to let him put a damper on this wonderful time in our lives. I just have to have faith that he'll be found, and punished to the full extent of the law.

I turn my attention back to my girl as she chats about what she and my mother have discussed so far. I know that they have an appointment with the dress lady next week to try on silhouettes, whatever the fuck that means.

"Do you think it's possible to take Thursday and Friday off this week? I'd really like to take you to see the house in Nantucket."

She glances over at me, but doesn't question it further. "I'll check with Carmen. She's the lead this weekend. I'm sure she'll allow it, and both Maggie and Jess are asking for extra shifts, so it'll be easy to get them covered. What did you have in mind?"

I try to keep my expression neutral. "I want to show you the ocean. Take you sailing. Aside from you, the water is the one thing that brings me true joy. I want to share it with you. We haven't had a chance to go, and summer is almost over. It's a shame if we don't get out there at least once."

She looks over at me with a smile. "I'd love to experience that with you."

Nothing more is said on the matter, because we arrive at our first destination.

The Chicago Cultural Center is a Chicago landmark. This place is booked years in advance, so I have no idea how my mother managed to get us a viewing.

Bella's jaw drops as soon as we enter the architectural masterpiece. "Wow."

She looks over at me with her gorgeous brown eyes, shining with awe, excitement, and hope.

We follow Colleen around for the grand tour; by the time we make it to the Tiffany glass dome, Bella is in tears. I know, right then, that this is the place. I don't care what it costs me. I will make it happen for her.

"What is the earliest date the center is available?"

Colleen takes us back to her office, and pulls up the master schedule, turning her computer screen so that Bella and I can see it. "Okay, Preston Bradley Hall is by far the most popular location for weddings, unfortunately Saturdays are booked solid for the next nineteen months. There are other beautiful locations within the center, of course, if you'd like to tour those? Perhaps the Grand Army of the Republic Hall? It's got a gorgeous stained glass rotunda as well."

I glance over to Bella, and then turn my attention back to Colleen. "With all due respect, I believe that my bride prefers Preston Bradley Hall. What does the schedule look like on Fridays or Sundays? I'm sure the center would benefit from the media attention my marriage is sure to bring."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen. We are honored to be amongst your choice of wedding venue. Now, we have a cancelation on Friday, three weeks from this coming weekend. There are four other couples interested, but, as of this morning, have not received a deposit. I guess that makes the date _technically_ still available. Does that date work for you?"

I look over at Bella, and silently ask her if she wants the date. She smiles at me before answering Colleen's question, "Yes. That date will be perfect."

Colleen smiles like she's won the lottery. "Very well, we require a fifty percent deposit, with the remaining balance due seven days before the ceremony. Now, for the space alone, the rental fee is fifteen thousand dollars. It includes six hours of event time for three hundred guests excluding set up time. This does not include linens, catering, flowers, live band, candelabras, arches, or anything of that nature."

"You can provide all of those services?" I know that would make Bella's very busy life much easier if she could make all of those arrangements in the same location.

"Yes. We have a contracted wedding planner that we work with. If you'd like, I'd be happy to set up an appointment with her. Her name is Annabelle, and she's amazing."

Bella nods her head as she furiously taps away at her phone.

"We'll pay the rental fee in full today. And then, can you do some sort of pre authorization for the other stuff? I'm a very busy man, and I'd rather not have to worry about having to sign for each purchase."

"Um, yes, of course, Mr. Cullen." She rummages around her credenza for a moment before returning with a couple of forms. I quickly fill out the rental form, and she completes the sale. Then, we move onto the other form.

"We will go ahead, and do a pre-authorization on your credit card in the amount that you agree upon. Once everything has been chosen and put into place, we will run a hard charge to your account for the actual amount. The next business day after the wedding, we will refund the amount of the pre-authorization that wasn't used, if any."

I nod my understanding, and begin filling out the form. "How much do you suggest pre-authorizing?"

She thumbs through a binder of past weddings, and says, "Our past weddings have ranged anywhere from thirty thousand to three hundred thousand."

"Okay, we'll authorize six hundred thousand, just to be safe. I don't want Bella to feel any kind of restriction when choosing what she wants."

Bella's eyes nearly bug out of her head at my words, but she doesn't argue. That reminds me that I need to add her to my accounts as soon as possible.

"Okay, that will be more than enough. Do you have a time in mind to meet Annabelle? It'll take a few hours if she's going to handle the majority of the planning."

Bella speaks up at that moment, "Wednesday morning would be best for my mother-in-law and me."

"Perfect. You'll just need a guest list, a color scheme, and an idea of what kind of flowers and food you'd like. If you have a few minutes right now to choose invitations, I can have them printed and ready to send out for you Wednesday."

"That would be wonderful, thank you."

Bella chooses an elegant cream and gold invitation with black script. I ask at the last minute to add a distinction that the event will be black tie. I want nothing less than the best for Bella; a formal wedding is only the beginning.

As we leave the venue hand in hand, I believe, with my entire being, that nothing can burst our bubble of bliss.

* * *

Did Edward do good? Are you as excited as Edward about the wedding? Do you think they should be concerned about Aro right now or just enjoy their wedding planning? How do you thing Bella will react to that ROCK?

Let's get this story to 1k reviews!

Kisses, Laila xx


	16. Chapter 16

Hello my lovelies! I think the only way to celebrate 1000 reviews is an extra update with a proposal! yay! As always, thank you so much for your continued love and support. I'm just in awe of your kindness and love.

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Hey, let's be friends on social media! Twitter: lailabentz, Facebook: Laila Bentz

Thank you to princess07890 for getting this chapter out almost a week early. Love you bae xx

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

Overwhelmed doesn't even begin to cover how I'm feeling. It's a good overwhelmed, but overwhelmed nonetheless.

Things have been amazing between Edward and me since the benefit; although I feel bad for throwing a fit, I'm thankful that I told him how I felt.

The locks are changed at the house, and Edward had a very difficult conversation with Kate about redefining boundaries. It came as no surprise when Edward later received an email from Garrett thanking him for doing so. I guess he, too, was feeling a little uncomfortable with Kate's continued interest in Edward's life.

Yesterday, Liz and I spent four hours at the Chicago Cultural Center choosing everything from linens to flowers and everything in between. I had no idea that you could design even your lighting. We chose to keep things as small as possible while still including all of the important people in Edward's life. I think that Annabelle was vastly disappointed that we hardly made a dent in the budget that Edward set but I just didn't see the need to make it that elaborate. That's not to say that we didn't plan a gorgeous, formal, candlelit wedding, however. Liz has been an absolute godsend. I honestly don't know what I would do without her. She knew just what to choose to make things spectacular while keeping me comfortable.

The next appointment we have at the Cultural Center is to design the cake, and create our reception menu. I'm really excited to taste all of the food, to be honest. Thank goodness we have that appointment _after_ our meeting with the designer that's going to make my dress. I've spent the last hour sending her pictures of dresses that appeal to me with detailed descriptions of what elements about each one that I like the most.

When I finish the email, I get back to packing for the weekend. Edward and I will leave for Nantucket tomorrow morning, and come back late on Monday. I'm really excited to go.

I leave a note asking Edward to pick up a new Chanel No. 5 body wash and body lotion for me, considering that I ran out in the shower today. I know that I can get some from the club, but I feel bad taking those for personal use. I definitely use the ones they give us for work purposes, but anything beyond that just seems wrong. I'm in a place financially to buy my own now and it's time to start doing so.

I get to the club a little early and as I sit down at my vanity to get ready for my shift, I get a call from Edward. "Hey, baby. I know you're busy but I'm here at Neiman Marcus with my personal shopper, and he needs some information from you."

I can hear him say something, then I hear a different man on the line. "Hello, sweet Isabella. I'm Jared, and I'll be your personal shopper from here on out. I work closely with a couple of women here so don't think that I am not capable of taking care of you. Now, Mr. Cullen says that you're going boating this weekend, and you'll need a few things. I'm going to need your sizes, including shoes and undergarments, and your makeup colors, such as foundation and the like."

I don't know what Edward is up to, but I go ahead and give Jared the information he needs, and then head up to work. I just don't have time to argue right now.

The club is unusually busy for a Thursday night, but I can't complain because the tips are outstanding. Not only that, but I also get my picture taken with Jake Plummer. All in all, I'd say it was a great night.

Most importantly, I get the opportunity to ask Maggie, Alice, Rosalie, Jess, and Carmen if they'll be my bridesmaids. They all enthusiastically agree, so, with Esme added in, I'll have five bridesmaids, and Esme as my matron of honor.

Because we were so busy tonight, I get home a little later than normal. I expect to find Edward asleep, but I'm pleasantly surprised when I find him sitting up in bed, wide awake.

"Hey, babe." I say as I make my way over to his side of the bed to plant a kiss on his pouty lips. I linger for two more before I head into the closet to change, and finish packing. "Did you get my body wash?" I call as I pass through the archway.

"I think so."

I pop my head back out of the closet to look at him. "You _think_ so?"

He looks up from his laptop. "Well, I told him what you said, but then we added a bunch more stuff."

I look at him wearily as I head into the bathroom to investigate. "What stuff?"

"I don't really know. The stuff you use at the club, makeup, perfume, lotion, some new summer collection...oh! And a nice bag to carry it all in."

"I only asked for body wash, and you got all this?" I ask as I sort through the plethora of Chanel cosmetics and body care, not to mention the gorgeous Chanel train case to put it all in. It must've cost a small fortune.

He peeks his head around the corner, his eyes full of concern and a hint of disappointment. "Did I not get the right stuff?"

"No, you did." I take a deep, calming breath to try and reign in my knee-jerk reaction to be upset at him for going overboard before adding, "It's perfect. I really love it all. Thank you, babe." I walk over to where he's standing, still clad in just my yoga pants and bra, and hug him tightly around the waist. This man is so incredibly thoughtful that it literally brings tears to my eyes. How I got so lucky is beyond me.

"That's not all." I tilt my head back to look up at his face. He's got that crooked smirk on his gorgeous face.

"It's not?"

"No. Look on the closet bench. I mean, there's some boat shoes and some clothes that I already packed in your bag, but that stuff is boring. The box on the bench? Not boring. I have to admit, however, that stuff is more for me."

That statement has me intrigued, of course. He follows me into the closet and crosses his thick, muscled arms across his chest as he watches me. I pick up the large pink box with _Agent Provocateur_ written in elegant black script on top, and place it in my lap as I take a seat on the black leather bench.

When I remove the top, and push away the tissue paper, I'm overwhelmed by the gorgeous pieces of silk and lace that are sitting inside. One by one, I pull out beautiful lingerie, nightgowns, a red kimono with a matching slip, and sexy lace panties.

"Wow." That is the only word that comes to mind as I examine the exquisite garments. "You were a shopping machine today."

"Will you wear them for me?" His voice sounds so deep and so sexy in the quiet room.

"Of course."

"Do you like them?"

"I love them," I breathe. "You're too good to me."

His smile is genuine as he watches me carefully add the beautiful lingerie to my luggage. I honestly can't wait to wear them for him.

I finish changing, and wash my face before sliding into bed. He opens his arms, and I settle in with my head on his chest. It's so easy to fall asleep when he strokes my hair.

Morning dawns too soon, and I whine a little when Edward tries to wake me up, although a hot shower and a cup of coffee do help. I'm rinsing out my cup as Edward loads the bags in the car, and I do one final check to make sure we didn't forget anything. Once I'm satisfied that we have everything, I head out to the car.

Security is quick this early, so we have time to grab Starbucks. I get a piece of marbled pound cake to go with my coffee, and go from grumpy to happy girl instantly. Chocolate can do wonders, okay?

Inside, the plane is freezing so I'm glad that Edward encouraged me to bring a sweater. It's a four hour flight, so I go ahead and settle in for the long haul.

We get some judgmental looks as we settle into our seats, but I'm used to them by now. Frankly, I don't care. So what the man I love is older, why do you care? I know that the scathing looks still make Edward a little uncomfortable, so I try to comfort him the best that I can.

He's gotten so much better with his aversion to PDA. He used to stiffen up whenever I was affectionate in public, but now he melts into my touch. He even initiates it now, which I love.

For instance, when I cuddle against him when we reach altitude, he doesn't ask if I need a pillow, he simply turns his head to kiss my temple.

He wakes me as the plane starts its descent, and, when I look out of the window, the view takes my breath away.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long to get to the house from the airport, because the anticipation is killing me. I'm not one bit surprised by the size and ostentatiousness of the house when we pull up. Edward is a very wealthy man, so I expected as much. What does surprise me, however, is the way that I feel when I get my first glimpse of the ocean from the wall of windows at the back of the house.

I barely even notice the inside of the gorgeous house as I make my way out to the back porch and, eventually, out to the beach. A gentle calming comes over me as I stare at the crystal blue water of the vast open sea. I'm so moved by the comfort that I feel that tears collect in my eyes. It feels like home.

I turn back toward the house to find Edward watching me from the porch. There's a deep understanding in his eyes as he watches my tears spill over. I can't help but look back toward the water. I take off my sweater, and sink to the sand just enjoying the gentle breeze that flows through my hair.

Edward joins me a few minutes later, and hands me a big, floppy sun hat. "I don't want you to get burned."

He sits next to me in the sand with his long legs stretched out in front of him. "It's incredible, isn't it?" I nod my agreement. "Just wait until we actually get out there."

I turn to look at him, "Can we go now?" He reaches out to caress my cheek, and smiles, "How about some lunch first? I'm taking you out on the yacht this evening, and we'll take the sailboat out in the morning."

"You have both?"

"I have both."

"Okay." Now that he mentions it, I'm actually quite hungry.

We head into town, and eat a fantastic little outdoor bistro. When we get back to the house, it's time for me to start getting ready. This is when I get the opportunity to really take in the grandeur of the home.

It's so different from the Chicago home, but no less impressive. The Chicago house is gorgeous, and I'm happy to live in it, but this house, this is something special. I can see now why Kate didn't want to let it go. Too damn bad, it's ours.

We have panoramic views of the ocean from the living room, the kitchen, and our bedroom. I take my toiletries and my new makeup case into the large, beautiful bathroom and get ready for the evening. I take my time with my makeup, and blow-dry my long hair into smooth, shiny, loose curls.

I choose a knee length white dress and nude strappy heels. I forgo any jewelry except for the diamond studs Edward gave me for Valentine's Day.

Once I'm ready, I head out on the bedroom balcony to just enjoy the view for a few minutes. This is where Edward finds me.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He wraps his arms around me as he says it.

"I never want to leave." And it's true. I could truly see myself here forever. He tightens his arms as he answers, "Someday, we won't have to." He places a kiss to the side of my head, and then takes my hand, "Let's go."

The yacht is absolutely incredible. Edward helps me aboard, and then takes me to the main deck. He tells me that he normally captains the boat, but that he's employed a staff for the evening.

We watch the mainland disappear; soon, we are surrounded by only the sea. We dine out on the deck and watch the sunset. It's a glorious sight, and nearly brings me to tears for the third time today. I just can't get over the beauty of this place.

The tears win when I glance over to find Edward standing, and coming around to kneel at my feet with a deep red Cartier box in his hand.

"Isabella, I've never known love like I've found with you. You are my best friend, the love of my life, and the other half of my soul. You challenge me every single day to be a better man; you make me _want_ to be a better man. You bring joy to my days and comfort to my nights, and I simply cannot imagine my life without you in it. I know that I don't deserve you, but I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying."

My hands are over my mouth, and the tears are flowing freely as he opens the box. There, glistening in the moonlight, is the most beautiful ring I've ever seen in my life.

"Will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me, baby?"

I nod my head as I stick out my left hand, and say through the tears, "Yes! Oh my God, yes!"

He slides the gorgeous ring onto the fourth finger of my left hand, and then stands up, taking me with him in an embrace full of love and passion. I kiss him with every ounce of emotion I have in my body, whispering _I love you_ every time we pull apart.

He sets me down on my feet, and then leads me down below deck to the bedroom. The room is gorgeous, with warm wooden features, and a large bed with a cream comforter. I notice that the red slip and kimono are hanging on a hook near the bathroom, so I excuse myself to change into it. The bathroom is large enough to rival any luxury hotel, and also has warm wood as well as a marble double sink, jetted bathtub, and shower.

I brush my teeth, and wash my face before slipping on the luxurious gown. The silk slides against my skin, making me feel bold and sexy. The ring catches the light as I adjust the robe, and I allow myself to really look at it for the first time.

Holy crow.

It's freaking humongous. An almost square-ish shaped giant center stone with a row of diamonds surrounding it and a very wide intricate band encrusted with tiny shimmering diamonds. I love that he incorporated yellow gold into the band because he knows I prefer it. It just goes to show how well he knows me, and how thoughtful he is.

The ring is heavy. Very heavy, and it'll definitely take some getting used to, but, I have to admit, it looks stunning against my petite hand. At first glance, it almost seems too big, but, when you actually look at it, it really is perfect. Lord knows that I have no desire to know how much it cost. I'd probably have a heart attack. Truth be told, I don't know how I'll ever get used to Edward's wealth. I know that it comes with the territory but it's still a little bit uncomfortable at times.

I smooth my hair once more, and then join my fiancé in the bedroom. He's down to just his slacks, and he's opening a bottle of champagne. He smoothly pours two glasses, and offers me one when I make my way over to him. I drain the glass as he looks me over before reaching out to feel the soft fabric.

"You're stunning."

"So are you." I breathe as he takes my empty glass from me.

He sweeps my hair over my shoulder, and leans down to kiss my neck. His large, strong hand tightens at my waist, pulling my body flush with his.

I drop my head to the side to give him access to my neck, and he doesn't disappoint, assaulting it with his lips and tongue. He smooths his hand down my back, and cups my butt, squeezing softly.

Reaching up to grip his hair, I pull his mouth to mine because I just can't stand another moment not kissing him. He's got both hands on my butt and his tongue in my mouth, but it's not enough.

I back up toward the huge white bed, and tug at his belt, needing to feel his weight on top of me.

"Slow down, baby. Let me look at you."

"But I need you." I argue as I tug again.

"You have me, baby. I'm all yours. Just let me see you." He turns us so that he's able to sit on the edge of the bed with his hands on my hips. "You are exquisite, my love." He fingers the soft silk of the short robe, and then reaches for the belt. "You should always be wrapped in the finest silk. Just for me."

His slow torturous movements paired with his words have me so turned on that it's nearly unbearable. He looks at me with such hunger that my lower abdomen clenches. He slides the robe from my shoulders, and lets it pool at my feet.

He slides his large hands up over the silk on my torso, sweeping his thumbs over my rock hard nipples. I place my hands on his shoulders for balance, and just let my body feel. He slides his hands back down, and slips them underneath the short dress.

He caresses my thighs and bottom, and then gathers the material up in his palms as he lifts it over my head, leaving me absolutely bare. He kisses my ribcage as he grips the back of my thighs, easily hoisting me up into his lap. The action causes my ring to glint in the low light, and the sight makes me moan.

In less than three weeks, I am going to marry this man. Mrs. Edward Cullen. The mere thought causes a fresh wave of arousal to flow from me. I cup his stubbled jaw, and bring his mouth to mine. I need him inside, _now_.

No longer content with his slow pace, I take control of the situation. Pushing him to lay flat on his back, I kiss his mouth, his neck, and his chest, letting my hair tickle his skin as I make my way down.

I unbuckle his pants, and tug them down his legs, discarding them on the floor. I pause to place a wet, open mouthed kiss on his shaft, but don't linger too much, because I'm in too much of a rush to get him inside me.

Straddling his hips, I sink down onto him until he's completely seated within me. I grind against him a little bit, because it just feels so damn _good_.

He sits up, and laves my breasts with his mouth, grabbing on to my ass and taking full control of my movements. His muscles bunch and flex as he bounces me up and down, creating the perfect amount of friction. I try to kiss him, but we're moving so intensely that it feels more like mouth-fucking, which is insanely hot.

He starts thrusting upward on every downward stroke, and I immediately feel the coiling in my gut. I try my best to match his rhythm, but, as soon as I shift my hips, I orgasm so hard it takes my breath away. I'm still floating when Edward flips me onto my back to find his own release.

I wrap my arms around his trembling form, and hold him close to me. A smile slowly spreads across my face when I realize that I've just made love to my fiancé for the first time.

Lifting my left hand, I allow myself a girl moment to admire the glittering stones in the fading light. Edward's proposal was absolutely perfect. After all that I've endured, I would do it again, a thousand times, as long as this man is my reward at the end of it. I'm so incredibly blessed, and I thank God every day for the life I have now.

We both sleep soundly, and easily wake up as the boat docks at sunrise. Edward thanks the staff, and they all congratulate us as we disembark. We head back inside the house to shower, and even sit down to have a fantastic breakfast on the deck overlooking the ocean.

"I hope you haven't had enough of the water, because we are setting sail at ten forty-five. Throw a bikini on under your shorts, and don't forget a sweater. Oh, and your boat shoes are in the front pocket of your luggage."

He kisses me on the lips, and then heads out to the dock to get the sailboat ready to go. I watch my sexy man work for a good fifteen minutes before heading inside to change.

I head out to the dock at exactly ten thirty. Edward helps me into the boat, and then explains the entire process and safety instructions to me. We practice a couple of maneuvers that he'll need help with; when he's confident in my understanding, we set off.

Sailing quickly becomes my new favorite pastime, especially when the tasks I am asked to do come naturally. Edward is pleasantly surprised at not only how easily I take to it, but also at how much I enjoy it. I now believe that this is the life I was meant for; it's simply exhilarating.

It makes me really happy when he confesses that I'm the only woman that he's taken out alone. Kate loved the prestige of boating, but much preferred the yacht, and certainly would never help on the sailboat. I really feel like this is something that we will continue to enjoy doing together for the rest of our lives.

I'm a little disappointed when it's time to bring the boat in. It was such an amazing day out on the water. I honestly can't wait to get back out there. It's sad that we only have one more day until we have to head back to Chicago.

We decide to go out to dinner, but we're both tired that we keep it casual.

"Thank you for today. I had a fantastic time."

I look at Edward a little puzzled. "Why would you thank me? I'm the one who was introduced to the ocean. I should be thanking _you_."

He smiles as he finishes off his beer. "I haven't had this great of a weekend in well… ever."

"Me, either. I love you so much."

"I love you, too." He reaches out to caress my face; I don't know why, but I notice his left hand. Something primal and possessive surges through me as I imagine a gold band on his large, masculine hand.

"If I bought you a wedding band, would you wear it?"

 _Please say yes._

He looks me straight in the eye, and smirks. "Yes."

I don't know why, but I blush like a schoolgirl. I can literally feel my face heat up. But I have verbal confirmation, so you can bet your sweet ass I'll be buying him a wedding ring.

Monday comes all too soon, and my soon-to-be-husband and I, much to my dismay, head back to Chicago. I just can't bring myself to think of Chicago as home anymore. We live there, yes, but home is Nantucket.

Edward seems to understand, because he doesn't ask why I'm fighting tears, he simply holds me.

We spend the rest of Monday evening lounging around. Well, I lounge around, Edward works. He spend most of the evening holed up in his home office, but I don't mind, I have a guest list to make, and wedding stuff to do.

Wednesday is jam packed from morning until evening. Liz picks me up as Edward is leaving, so he's able to walk me out to her BMW.

She gushes over the ring, and then kisses us both on the cheeks as we send him off to work. I let him know that I'll text him about the food before I make any decisions. He's adamant about having prime rib. I'd rather wait and see what our choices are.

But first, we're off to the designer. Serena Joham has been working day and night to have samples ready for today.

Her studio is in downtown Chicago, and has stuff everywhere. I imagine that the space is usually organized, but, because we're putting such a time constraint on her, she's got everything in disarray.

When we get there, she greets us with air kisses, but then promptly shows us into a large dressing room, where she tells me to strip to my thong while she brings in several samples. They look like mix-matched pattern pieces that she's fitting together like puzzle pieces.

The first one we try on is a fitted bodice with a mermaid style bottom. Liz immediately shakes her head no, but I put in on, and go stand on the pedestal. Looking at myself in the Three Way mirror, I can tell right away that this isn't the silhouette for me.

Serena steps back and then shakes her head. "The fullness at the bottom makes you look stubby. It cuts off your legs, which are quite long for your petite stature. Not a good look. Take it off."

The next one is fantastic. I look long and lean, and my butt looks awesome.

"This is it. But can we bring the back lower? She has such beautiful skin." Liz smiles at me through the mirror, but I can't take my eyes off of the dress. It's perfect.

Serena pulls her reading glasses onto her face, and gets behind me marking and pinning. She even pulls out a pair of scissors, and makes a snip in the back.

She gathers up the material and puts in a pin, creating a ruching effect. I love the way the champagne colored silk catches the light.

"Now, we are entrusting the gown with rhinestones, yes?"

I don't even have to think twice. "Yes."

"Okay." She disappears into her warehouse, and returns a moment later with several different shades of flesh colored mesh. She holds each one up to my skin, and chooses the lightest one.

"What do we think about the front? Is the train long enough?"

The train is extremely long, so I nod.

"Excellent, next time you'll need your shoes, dear. I can't get the length exactly right without them. All right, then. Let's talk about beading."

She helps me out of the dress, and then disappears again to find a color chart of Swarovski crystals.

"You're doing an evening, candlelit ceremony, yes?"

"Yes. Very formal. Very romantic." I can't help but smile at the thought.

Serena smirks at me before going back to her chart. "The crystal AB, Colorado Topaz AB, and the Metallic Bronze will be stunning."

I look over at Liz to see what she thinks. "Yes, those are gorgeous. Do you like them, Bella?"

They are so pretty that I can't take my eyes off of the way that they catch the light. "They're perfect. Thank you so much for doing this, Serena."

"Oh, sweetheart, don't thank me. I get to dress the gorgeous bride of Edward Cullen. It really is my pleasure. So, tell me, was it love at first sight?"

I laugh as I recall the very rocky beginning of our relationship. "Hardly. I thought that he was an arrogant, pompous ass."

Both Liz and Serena laugh before Serena presses on, "But, you found out that he's none of those things?"

I smirk as I respond, "He's all of those things. But he's _my_ arrogant, pompous ass, and I love him with all of my heart. But, all kidding aside, he's the most genuine, kind, and caring person I've ever known. I'm very lucky to share my life with him. He'll be an amazing father."

Liz sucks in a sharp breath, and Serena asks, "Are you expecting?"

I rush to correct my faux pas. "Oh, no. Not yet. But we aren't planning to wait long. At least, I hope not."

Liz has me wrapped in her arms before I can take my next breath. "Really, Bella? You're going to give him children?"

"Yes. As soon as this mess with Aro is finished, we plan to start our family." The thought of Aro out there somewhere sparks a hint of dread to settle in my gut, but I try to ignore it.

"All the more reason to find that bastard and lock him up. Oh, sweetheart, I'm so happy for you."

I hate that thoughts of him have tainted a perfect day, so I try my best to push those thoughts aside.

He can't hurt me if I don't think about him… _right_?

* * *

What did you think of the proposal? Did it live up to your expectations? What do you think of Edward's reaction to Bella asking if he'd wear a ring? Less than three weeks till the wedding! I hope Aro stays away...

I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

Kisses, Laila xx


	17. Chapter 17

My goodness it's been a challenge to get this chapter out! I'm so grateful for everyone who has waited patiently. I hope I don't disappoint.

I will be posting pictures on the Pintrest board for anyone interested in visuals. Just search: The Bunny Ranch.

Let's be friends on social media! Twitter, facebook and Instagram, lailabentz or Laila Bentz

Thank you for the constant love and support from my beta, princess07890. Go check out her stories!

I own nothing.

* * *

 **~Bella~**

I didn't think it was possible to feel any closer to Edward, but, after our trip to Nantucket, I know that assumption is false. I feel closer to him than ever.

It means so much to me that he took time off from work to share something with me that is important to him. I never realized that we would bond so deeply over it.

Seeing him out on the water was almost like seeing a different person entirely. He was so carefree and happy. It was such a stark contrast to the serious, ruthless businessman I've grown to love. I got a taste of the life we could have, and I'm set on it. It won't happen immediately, but it _will_ happen. Moving to Nantucket is too important to ignore for long.

I stand in our shared closet, which now seems to be bursting at the seams, and stare at my clothes. My mind wanders to the empty, unused closet and dressing area on the opposite side of the room and I wonder how Edward would feel if I cleaned it out, and utilized it. I don't see how he could object; there's seriously too much stuff in this one that we share.

The unused dressing area was clearly intended for a woman, with its large walk-in closet and attached dressing area. There's built in shelving and gorgeous crown molding. I honestly can't wait to redecorate it.

Choosing a yellow sundress, I change quickly, and then head to the bathroom to retrieve my earrings from the jewelry tray I keep near the sink.

When I get to the doorway of the bathroom, however, I stop short in my tracks. Edward is standing at his sink, frowning, as he inspects the spattering of grey hair at his temples. His strong, muscled shoulders flex as he reaches up to rub his beard, and he sighs when he reaches into the cabinet to grab his razor.

I make my way over, and wiggle myself between his hard body and the sink. I not so smoothly hop up to sit on the counter, spreading my legs so that I can wrap them around his thighs.

His troubled green eyes meet mine; he smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He slides his large, masculine hands along my thighs until they creep under my dress, but I don't move. I just let him feel me. His hands find purchase on my behind, but the touch isn't sexual. Instead, he leans into me, resting his head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and just hold him for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his jaw.

It saddens me that he still worries about our age difference at times. It's not a constant issue and it really is a small one in the grand scheme of things, but I still want to do everything in my power to reassure him.

I reach up, and gently push his shoulders to prompt him to stand up, and step back. I look directly into his gorgeous green eyes as I clumsily slide off of the counter, but I want his attention. I need him to be one hundred percent focused on me if I'm to make the point I hope to make.

He follows me easily as I take his hand, and lead him toward our closet. There's a full length mirror in there, and I plan to use it in order to make my point. I stop us when we are standing in front of the mirror, and turn so that I'm standing with my back is against his front. He's at least a foot taller than me, so, barefoot, he's easily able to see over my head.

I don't say anything, but my intention is clear. I want him to see how good we look together. I want him to see how good we _are_ together. After today, I never want him to worry about how we look together ever again.

He catches my eye in the mirror, and I hold his gaze steady. I fight my natural urge to squirm, and stand firm until he finally looks beyond my eyes to the image of us together. I see when he, at last, looks at himself. His tall, strong, masculine form is a dominant presence, and a stark contrast to my petite, feminine one.

He places his hands on my waist, never looking away from the image in the mirror. He skims his hands down my hips, and fists the fabric of my dress, exposing my thighs. I press myself harder against his body, because the image of him watching himself touch me is an incredible turn on.

Bunching the dress up, he pulls it over my head, and then discards it haphazardly on the floor; his glowing green eyes finding his hands in the mirror once again. He takes his time caressing every inch of my exposed skin, and, when he smirks that cocky smirk that I love so much at himself, I know that my plan has worked.

He cups my breasts in his hands, and I rub my thighs together at the sight of how they overflow from his large hands. Squeezing gently, he locks eyes with me in the mirror as he drags his tongue along the length of my neck. A loud moan escapes me as I reach up to grip his hair, grinding my butt against him. He's rock hard against my lower back, and I'm so thankful when he walks us back the few steps toward the bench.

He pulls off his underwear as he sits down, and bites my butt cheek as he peels my underwear off. I yelp at the sudden sting, and giggle at his playfulness as he pulls me to sit on his lap, my back to his front. I spread my legs wide, because I want him to see how wet I am for him.

"Jesus, fuck." Is all he says as he reaches around me, and drags his long, elegant fingers through my dripping folds. There's something so naughty about watching ourselves through the mirror, but in the best possible way.

I curl my right leg back and then my left as he holds me steady so that I'm straddling him in reverse. I grab hold of his manhood, and position myself above him. I catch his eyes in the mirror as I slowly sink down onto his length. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder once he's fully seated within me, because the sensation, combined with the added stimulation of watching ourselves, is just completely overwhelming.

He groans when I swivel my hips, and tightens his grip on my hip when I finally speak, "Do you see? Do you see how perfect we are together? Please don't doubt us. It hurts me when you do."

He closes his eyes, but places a gentle kiss to my temple, "I'm sorry, my love. Never again."

It's all I need. I trust him implicitly; if he says never again, it's never again.

I brace my hands on his thighs, and really start to move. It's an odd sensation, but completely amazing. He's touching places inside of me that have never been stimulated before, and it feels amazing. It's erotic and sexy, but I can tell when we've had enough of the kink because he effortlessly shifts me until I'm facing him with my legs wrapped around his back. He kisses me deeply as he brings me to orgasm, and it isn't long until he follows.

He holds me tightly, and I can feel his apology in the way that he holds me.

"For the record, I find this incredibly sexy," I say as I brush my fingers through the hair at his temple.

"Yeah?" For the first time, he looks like he actually believes me, causing my heart to soar. I nod my confirmation, fearing that using my words will make me emotional. Instead, I merely hold him tighter. I love this man with everything inside of me, and I'm glad that he finally believes it.

"I can't wait to be your wife."

"I can't wait to be your husband."

It's such a perfectly cheesy moment, and I hate to break it, but I know that he has to get to work, and I have errands to run before Liz picks me up to finish wedding stuff. With the wedding a little over a week away, I'm even more stressed than ever.

When Thursday rolls around, I almost see work as a refuge from wedding planning. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than excited for the wedding; I'm just over the planning.

I'm waiting at the bar for one of my drink orders when Jess saddles up beside me. "Who's that guy?"

"What guy?"

I look over at her, meeting her bright blue eyes. They are filled with concern and a hint of disgust.

"That guy that's been staring at you all night." Her gaze flicks over toward a man sitting at a table in the section adjacent to mine. His piercing grey eyes lock with mine, and a chill rips up my spine. I look away quickly, swallowing back the terror that has seized me. I don't know why I get so freaked out, but my natural flight or fight response kicks in immediately.

Jess's eyes soften as she reaches for my hand. "I know, right? He's been creeping me out all night. I'm surprised you haven't noticed him."

I sneak another glance over at the dark haired man, and catch him, yet again, staring at me. Pulling my gaze from the strange man, I think fleetingly about reporting it to our security team, but dismiss the idea. People stare at us all the time, there's nothing they can do about it. It's the nature of the business we're in. I take a few deep breaths to recollect myself, and head back to my section, drinks in hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, and, before I know it, the strange man is forgotten, allowing me to focus on my customers. I get a little spooked when the girls and I walk out to our waiting car, but, other than that, everything is fine.

Edward is asleep when I get home, which is nothing new, considering how late it is by the time I close out my section and check in my costume. I quickly go through my nightly routine, and then move Edward's laptop from the bed, and put his glasses on the bedside table. I know that he's fallen asleep waiting up for me, and that simple fact touches my heart. It also makes me feel terrible, knowing that he has to be at work early in the morning.

Unfortunately, I'm still asleep when he leaves for work, so I wake up to not only an empty bed, but also an empty house. I lay in bed for a few minutes, still groggy from my crappy night's sleep, and decide that I can't start my day without at least hearing his voice. He answers on the first ring,

"Baby."

His voice is so tender; it's exactly what I needed to hear.

"Hey." I answer, barely able to keep my emotions in check.

"Hey, yourself. What are you doing up so early?"

"I missed you."

"Oh, baby. I miss you, too."

I can't help it; I start crying.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I don't know," I sniffle. "I'm just emotional. Get back to work. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Why don't you come have lunch with me?"

"I wish I could, but I've got errands that I can't put off any longer, and I picked up Alice's shift tonight so she could visit her mom in Mississippi, remember?"

"That's right, I remember. Call me when you get to the club?"

"I will. I love you."

"I love you, too."

It's crazy how just hearing his voice is all I need to turn my mood around. I spend the rest of the morning putting finishing touches on my closet project.

As expected, Edward was more that supportive of me fixing up the empty closet and dressing room. I managed to do it all myself with fantastic pieces that I picked up from Homegoods, a discount home furnishings store in our area.

It's soft and feminine; decorated in creams with a touch of gold and cheetah print. I found a beautiful, ornate, full length mirror and a gorgeous matching vanity. It's very luxurious, and I can't wait to move all of my makeup and clothes in. That'll have to wait until after the wedding, however. We're just too busy right now. Well, the makeup is what I moved this morning. I'm too used to getting ready at a vanity at work to let my own go unused. It's definitely my guilty pleasure.

When I get to work, I call my love, as promised, and manage to have a sweet conversation as I apply my makeup. When it's time to blow-dry my hair, however, I know that it's time to hang up.

We are slow again, which is rough on our tips, and, honestly, makes the night drag on. I much prefer when it's busy.

I make my way over to the gentlemen that were just seated in my section, and startle when I recognize the dark haired man. The hair on the back of my neck rises, and a shiver runs down my spine, but I take a few deep breaths to control my reaction.

"Good evening, gentlemen, I'm Bunny Isabella, and I will be taking care of you this evening. May I please see your Playboy keys?"

I plaster a fake smile on my face, and try my best to ignore the way his eyes hungrily slide down my body. When those piercing grey eyes meet mine again, he smoothly slides the sleek black card from his designer wallet. The self-satisfied smirk on his face annoys me, but I retain my pleasant smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Valkov. What will you be drinking this evening?"

"I'll have a Manhattan, and my business associate will have a Heineken."

Cockiness radiates off of him, and his lips turn up into a smirk when I fumble with my order pad. I hate that he knows that he makes me uncomfortable. But he does.

Jess is watching us; when I get to the bar to wait for my order, she makes a face. "Eww. Creepo is back."

I nod my head, not bothering to look back in his direction. There's no need since I can feel his sleazy eyes on me as I perch at the bar. I suddenly feel so exposed and cheap in this uniform. I fight back the threatening tears, and the urge to quit on the spot. I refuse to let this man get the best of me. Instead, I take him his drink order, and do my best to ignore the way his eyes follow my every move.

By the time my lunch break rolls around, my nerves are frazzled. Mr. Valkov is still going strong in my section, and I don't know how much more I can take. I call Edward, and ask him to come and wait for me until I get off. I know that it's inconsiderate, because he has a meeting in the morning, but I'm genuinely afraid. I reported him to our security staff, but, like I thought, there is nothing that they can do since he is a paying customer who hasn't technically done anything wrong. Giving me the creeps isn't exactly just reason to ask someone to leave an establishment.

The problem is that I know that I've seen him before. I think that's what is messing with my mind. Nevertheless, I need to put on my big girl panties, so to speak, and finish my shift with my head held high.

Thankfully, it's only about forty-five minutes until Edward gets here. Again, I feel bad when I see him pull out his laptop as he settles into one of the leather chairs, but, at the same time, my unease completely dissipates. His presence alone makes me feel safe. He catches my eye, and winks at me as Maggie finishes taking his drink order.

With a smile, and a much lighter heart, I go back to taking care of my tables.

"Did you know that you walk past a murderer nine times throughout your life?" startled, I look up at Mr. Valkov, not only taken aback by what he said, but also by the way he used trivia to deliver the information. "Just a bit of trivia for you." He smirks at my obvious discomfort; it's at this point that I know that something isn't right.

"Last call, Mr. Valkov. The bar stops serving in ten minutes."

"I think I've had enough. Tell me, Bunny Isabella, do you always have your guard dog around?" He nods his head in the direction where Edward is sitting. I look over my shoulder and notice that those green eyes that I love so much are trained on Mr. Valkov.

I turn my attention back to the creep, but I don't answer. Instead, stare at him with pure defiance shining in my eyes.

"You and I both know that he's not around one hundred percent of the time. Good evening, Isabella. Until we meet again."

He dips his head, and confidently strides out of the club. I hate that I have no reason to ask the club to blacklist him. He never broke any rules, he never touched me, and he never threatened me. But I've honestly never felt so threatened in my entire life.

He has to be connected to Aro. There's no other way to explain it. Especially adding in the fact that he looks so _familiar_.

Edward is watching me as I close out my section. His beautiful, bloodshot green eyes are filled with concern, not to mention exhaustion. Again, I feel terrible for making him spend his evening here when I know that he's preparing for an important meeting. It's not like my crazy customer can snatch me from the secure parking lot. I don't know what I was thinking.

Edward waits for me to cash out, and turn in my costume. He looks delicious leaning against the wall when I emerge from the double doors. I slide my arms around his middle, and hug him tightly as I approach.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night. I'm such a pain in the butt. I don't know why I'm being such a baby about this."

"Nonsense. If you need me, I'm here. No questions asked. I love you, Bella. Your happiness and security come first. Always. Besides that, you're _my_ pain in the ass."

He winks with his last statement, and I giggle, burying my face in his chest to let his love surround me for a moment.

"Besides, I think there's something very off about him. I have my private investigators working on it as we speak."

The fact that Edward admits that he thinks there's something suspicious about the man, I instantly feel better about my reaction. Justified even.

When I've calmed down, I follow him to the car, and kiss his mouth when he opens the door for me. Such a gentleman.

The following Wednesday afternoon, I decide to take advantage of my only day off until the wedding, and surprise Edward at work. I call our car service, and arrange to have them take me by Edward's favorite deli, and then drop me off at his building.

I send a text to Liz to let her in on my change of plans, and become concerned when she doesn't answer. No matter what she's doing, Liz always answers. Even if just to say that's she's busy, and will call later.

I knock on the privacy glass divider in order to alert the driver that we've passed our destination, but I don't get a response. My concern turns to sheer panic when we pull up to a red brick building that I don't recognize.

I'm in full fight or flight mode, and all I can think is that I'm somehow being abducted, and that I'll never see Edward again. When the car stops and the driver gets out to open my door, I snap at him.

"This isn't where I asked you to take me."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Swan, but I'm under strict orders by Mr. Cullen to bring you to this location. If you have any questions, you can take it up with him."

I pull my phone out of my bag, and just as I'm about to hit send, Alice emerges from the building. I must look completely flustered, because she's quick to dismiss the driver.

"Thank you, I've got her from here."

She takes my hand, and pulls me from the car, but not without resistance from me. I don't know if it's the creepy guy that I swear is still following me around, or the fact that Aro is still at large, but I resist.

"What is going on here, Alice?"

She rolls her big blue eyes, and tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder before tugging on my hand. "Stop being so dramatic, Bella. C'mon."

I take a deep breath, but follow my friend. Logically, I know that I'm safe with her, but I can't help the unease I've felt lately.

Of course, I feel absolutely awful when I walk through the doors right into a surprise bridal shower. The large, open room is elegantly decorated in creams, champagne, and, of course, gold. There's a large buffet set up and several small round tables.

Liz greets me with a motherly hug, and it dawns on me why she was so adamant that I wear the champagne colored dress that I wore for our weekly family dinner a few weeks ago. It matches the decor perfectly.

I look around to all of my close friends and co-workers, and realize that I do have a family. Between Edward and his family and everyone here today, I am loved.

My emotions get the best of me once again, and I cry like a baby.

"Oh sweetheart, don't cry! You'll mess up your makeup. This is a happy occasion. Let's celebrate!" I wrap my arms around her, and hope that she can feel my love and gratitude for her through my embrace.

Liz takes me by the hand, and leads me to the buffet table. Esme and Carmen are there, and they both embrace me as well.

"Who's at the club?" There are so many Bunnies here that it's hard to imagine that there are enough girls to work tonight.

Carmen winks at me as she answers, "Don't you worry about it, B. We've got it covered."

"Thank you so much for being here. It means the world to me."

Esme smiles softly as she kisses my cheek. "We wouldn't be anywhere else for our sister."

We eat a delicious lunch of prime rib with garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus, an unhealthy amount of cheesecake, and drink entirely too much champagne. Everyone oohs and awes at the beautiful lingerie I receive when we sit down to open gifts, and I have to say that for having such a terrible last couple of weeks, my future has definitely taken a turn for the better.

Alice makes sure to take plenty of pictures, and I even send a few to Edward, who especially loves the sneak peaks of the satin and lace, naughty man. I almost hate for the wonderful day to end, but, at the same time, I'm grateful because that means that we're one day closer to the big day.

In four short days, I will be Mrs. Edward Cullen.

* * *

So, we have finally made it to the wedding! Are you excited for it? They deserve a little happiness before the shit hits the fan, yeah? What do we think of Mr. Valkov? What do you think he's up to?

I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

Lots of love, Laila xx


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